


To the Edge of the Earth

by AmarisAmastacia, ApostateRowan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Long, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarisAmastacia/pseuds/AmarisAmastacia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateRowan/pseuds/ApostateRowan
Summary: Duncan doesn't just want one recruit, he goes after all of them. This story depicts the lives and adventures of all seven Origins as they become Wardens and fight together, fight each other, fall in love, and kick butt through the Fifth Blight. *complete*
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. Leaving the Clan

**Author's Note:**

> New chapter each week!

Rhysand swung his blade around, hitting Tamlen’s sword and knocking his best friend back a few steps. Tamlen laughed quietly, swinging his sword back around and managed to graze Rhys’s side where he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Rhys looked down at it, managing to close the wound with his magic before he moved back towards Tamlen. 

The two men were closely matched, having practiced together many times and they were covered in sweat as their swords clashed together. Tamlen swiped towards Rhys and Rhys leapt back, grinning as he sent a cold spell at Tamlen’s feet, freezing him in place. 

“Cheater,” Tamlen said, raising an eyebrow although he was smiling. 

Rhys smiled back, “I’m just using my natural talents.” 

Tamlen shook his head, “Are you going to melt it or am I going to stay here forever?” 

Rhys laughed softly, moving over and kneeling down to melt the ice, “It would melt on its own Tam. You wouldn’t be here forever.” 

Tamlen waited until Rhys had carefully melted the ice before jumping towards him, pinning him to the ground. “I win,” Tamlen smiled. 

“Who’s cheating now?” Rhys said.

Rhys grew some vines to wrap around Tamlen’s waist, yanking him to the ground beside him. Tamlen grunted quietly and struggled against the vines. He opened his mouth to say something when they heard voices nearby. Both men froze, looking at each other and Rhys quickly freed Tamlen from the vines. 

“Let me see it,” a voice carried to them. 

“It’s got weird markings on it,” another voice said. 

Rhys and Tamlen moved through the dense foliage quietly until they could see three men in a clearing.

“You three are somewhere you shouldn’t be,” Tamlen said.

Rhys stepped up beside Tamlen raising his staff. 

“What are you doing here?” Rhys questioned. 

He knew he had to keep this as civilized as possible and avoid injuring the humans if they could so the clan wouldn’t have to move again so soon after they had settled there. 

“We aren’t bandits; we were just going to explore a cave we found nearby. Honest,” one of the humans said.

“And I suppose you were looking for treasure. You’re closer to thieves than actual bandits,” Tamlen sneered. “We should take care of these shems now so we don’t have to move camp. If we let them go they’ll just come back,” he whispered to Rhys without taking his eyes off the humans.

“No, we’ll find out what we can and let them go. We can’t afford for three humans to be found dead so near our camp,” Rhys told him just as quietly.

“Who said anything about their bodies being left anywhere they could be found?” Tam joked.

“No, we’re letting them go, with a warning not to come back,” Rhys said and he saw Tamlen nod in acceptance of his order. 

The three men had been having their own hurried conversation.

“If we give you what we found can we go?” he questioned while holding what appeared to be a large rock.

“Yes, as long as you tell us where this cave is and never come back here so long as our clan is in these woods,” Rhys held out his hands for the rock.

“The cave is just to the west of here. The entrance is hidden behind some vines,” the man thrust the rock at Rhys and they all took off running. 

Rhys looked down at the stone he was now holding. It was fairly large and was covered in markings. They appeared to be written in ancient Elvish but he wasn’t able to make out any distinct words. 

“We should go talk to Marethari before we do anything else. She can have some warriors come with us in case there’s any trouble lurking in this cave,” Rhys said while still looking at the stone. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. If those shems had no problems getting in far enough to find that then we’ll be fine. I’m going right now with or without you,” Tam stated knowing that Rhys would feel obligated to follow him and provide backup if necessary. 

“Fine but any major problems and we go straight back to camp so we can get help.”

“Just because you’re First doesn’t mean you have to be so strict and rule abiding all the time,” Tamlen teased. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The fighting had lulled to a stop inside the cave, where they had been attacked in every new room by a handful of giant spiders, though nothing the two elves couldn’t handle. Rhys took the temporary breather to look at the surroundings, finally able to take note of the statues and carvings on the walls that had caught his attention. Avoiding one of the fuzzy legs of the spiders narrowly he approached the wall, brushing his fingers over the Elven words.

“I wish I could read these. So much of our history has been lost and this could help us  
understand our past,” Rhys said wistfully. 

“Look over here,” Tamlen called from where he had wandered ahead. “You recognize this right?” 

There was a statue of a woman's figure with her arms held out, wings spread wide behind her. 

“It’s one of the creators from the time of Arlathan,” Rhys said in awe. 

“It’s strange though. The architecture of this place was clearly designed by humans, why are there so many elven symbols here?” Tamlen wondered.

At that moment a few strange creatures came charging at them from a hidden passage. Rhys didn’t bother thinking about what they were. He leapt into action instead, casting barrier spells around himself and Tamlen both and then using more offensive magic against the creatures. There were three of them, two smaller ones and one larger one that had a different look than the other two. 

“You focus on the larger one and I’ll take the small ones,” Rhys said. 

Tamlen moved to follow his orders, to Rhys’s relief. Rhys used a freezing spell on the two smaller creatures and then quickly shattered them with a stonefist. He turned to see Tamlen and found that he had just finished killing his foe. At that moment Rhys felt a sharp pain across his back shoulder blade. Tamlen hurriedly fired an arrow shooting the undead monster in the head. He looked around for more of them and when he saw none he moved over to Rhys.

“You’re definitely going to need new armor. I don’t think Ilen will be able to repair this no matter how hard he tries. Are you going to be able to heal that?” Tamlen asked coming around to look at the wound. 

It was a decent sized gash starting on his shoulder and continuing down almost to his lower back. 

“I should be able to… I think. It’s deep and it will probably leave another scar,” Rhys admitted. 

Tamlen watched as Rhys slowly bound the wound back together. Rhys’s brow knit in concentration as he drew heavily on his mana. Finally there was only a large, jagged scar going down his back, blood from the wound still coating his skin. 

“Better?” Tamlen asked.

Rhys nodded, “It’s going to be a bit sore but it’s healed.”

Tamlen shifted his eyes down to one of the corpses. “What do you think those things were?” 

Rhys looked down, “Spirits of the undead that have been possessed. We should be more careful from here.”

“Whatever you say, First,” Tamlen grinned at him. 

xxxxxxxx

Rhys looked at the mirror, a knot in his stomach forming that kept him at a distance even as his friend approached. The feeling had been building the closer they had gotten to the room though Tamlen seemed totally oblivious to it, even when they’d passed through the cursed door after defeating its undead guardians. 

“It’s so beautiful and intricate. I wonder what those carvings say,” Tamlen said stepping up onto the first stair leading to the mirror.

“Marethari might be able to translate it. I’ve only recently started my own studies with her in the ancient language. I really think we should go back to camp now and tell the Keeper about this. It feels wrong in here,” Rhys said, his voice worried.

“All right I will,” Tamlen backed off the stairs. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes wider, “Wait did you see that! Something moved in the mirror!” 

Rhys rushed forward and grabbed Tamlen’s arm in an attempt to lead him away but Tamlen pulled his arm free and walked to the top of the stairs putting his hand directly on the surface of the mirror. 

“I can see something! There’s an underground city and some kind of blackness?” Tamlen said entranced. 

Rhys felt frozen as his own eyes shifted to the mirror. The only thing he could see it in was Tamlen himself. Before Rhys could try to pull his friend away again Tamlen’s voice took on an urgency that was different from the eagerness he’d had before.

Panicked Tamlen said, “It saw me! Help! I can’t look away!”

A bright white light shot out from the mirror knocking Rhys to the ground. The next thing he knew there was a human man leaning over him and he realized he was back outside the cave. Everything was blurry and Rhys was just able to understand the man.

“Can you hear me? I am very sorry.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Rhys woke up his head was pounding and he felt like his entire body was one giant bruise. He groaned in pain and forced himself into a sitting position.

“So the sleeping beauty awakes at last and I didn’t even have to kiss you again,” Rhys heard a familiar voice say. 

Rhys flushed lightly as he looked to Tristan, sitting up slowly. He groaned quietly as his muscles shifted and Rhys remembered what had happened.

“How did I get back to camp? Tamlen? Is Tamlen okay? All I remember is a bright light and... then a strange human was talking to me outside,” Rhys said worriedly.

“He’s a Grey Warden. He’s been meeting with Marethari the last three days,” Tristan said. 

“Three days?” Rhys blinked.

Tristan nodded. “You’ve been asleep all this time. I… Marethari said she had to use the old magic to heal you.”

Rhys’s breath caught. Marethari only ever used the old magic for the most dire circumstances. It had just been a mirror. Just a mirror.

“And… Tam?” Rhys breathed.

Tristan’s eyes turned downcast and he slowly shook his head. “They haven’t been able to find him. The Warden says we won’t,” he said, his voice quiet and pained. 

“He can’t know that,” Rhys said, his heart sinking.

“He said he’s seen things like this before,” Tristan said, meeting Rhys’s pained eyes. 

Rhys swallowed hard, his breathing shallow as he closed his eyes. Tamlen had to be out there. His best friend couldn’t just be gone. And if he was… It had been Rhys’s fault for following after Tamlen instead of insisting they head back to camp for help. Rhys had a duty to protect all members of the clan. And he had a duty to his best friend. And he’d failed him.

Tristan watched Rhys quietly for a moment. “Marethari said to have you meet with her when you woke,” he said softly.

Rhys barely heard the words at first before they broke through. Of course Marethari would want to see him right away.

“I’d better go then,” Rhys said softly back. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rhys sat down dejectedly on a small chair in Marethari’s aravel. Tamlen was missing. Still missing. And they were just supposed to leave him. They had looked through the caves only to find them empty once more. With every room they’d entered Rhys’s hopes had grown only to be squashed down as he realized his best friend was not there. His chest ached and he felt heavy as he stared at the small red rug on Marethari’s floor. 

Merrill had seemed upset but mostly interested in the various artifacts she’d collected. Fenarel had been the only one there that Rhys knew was feeling even part of what he was. The loss. 

Duncan had been examining the mirror when they’d finally reached its chamber. He’d spoken with authority on the subject but Rhys still had a hard time believing him. He had a hard time believing his best friend had died of the darkspawn taint while he’d been asleep. 

Duncan explained the origins of the mirror as well as what he claimed had happened to Tamlen when they returned to Marethari’s aravel. Marethari grimaced but nodded as if this was what she had expected him to say all along.

“We shall arrange a funeral service for him to be held tonight,” she said.

Rhys bowed his head, feeling everything else slip away. Funeral, he thought, the word repeating over and over in his head. He felt cold and tired. 

“I did manage to find his weapons. They were on the floor near the mirror. I felt it was only right that they be returned to the clan,” Duncan pulled Tamlen’s bow and his sword out of a large bag he was carrying.

“Thank you Duncan. We will bury Tamlen’s bow since there is no body,” Marethari said reaching to take hold of the bow. “Rhysand, you were his closest friend. I feel it is only right for you to have his sword.”

“Thank you Keeper,” Rhys bowed his head and then took the sword from Duncan, holding it securely in his grasp.

“There is one other matter I would like to discuss with you. It’s about Rhys and his sickness. I’m afraid he is not truly cured and that your magic and his own willpower has only delayed the darkspawn taint from spreading faster than it has. The only way to truly save his life is for him to leave your clan and become a grey warden. It will heal him from the sickness and my order is in need of new members,” Duncan said.

Rhys stared at him in shock. He didn’t want to leave his clan. He knew they would probably be fine since Merrill was there to step into his place as the First but the clan was his family and his home and he didn’t want to abandon them.

“I know what you’re thinking, da’len, but if this is truly the only way to cure you then you must go with Duncan. Merrill is more than capable of taking over your duties as First. And long ago the Dalish made an agreement with the Wardens that if there was ever a blight we would aid them in whatever manner they asked,” Marethari said sorrowfully.

Outwardly, Rhys knew he was projecting a calm demeanor but inside he was full of turmoil. He knew that what Marethari and Duncan was saying made sense and he didn’t want to die; especially if his death could be prevented. But, the clan was the only way of life he knew and they were his family. 

Duncan sensed his hesitation, “If need be I will call on the Right of Conscription. Either way I must insist that you come with me.”

Hearing that Rhys made up his mind. He would not be forced into this. He would willingly choose to go.

“No. I will come willingly if this is truly the only way. I will devote the rest of my life to your cause,” Rhys swore. “May my actions bring pride to my clan as well as the rest of the Dalish.”

“We will leave at first light. Use the rest of the evening to say your goodbyes,” Duncan told him before walking away.

All Marethari said before she too left was, “I wish it didn’t have to be this way Rhys, but I know you will make us proud.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

“I’m so glad to see you awake. We were all so worried about you,” Ashalle smiled, drawing Rhys into a hug.

“They told you about what happened in the cave while I was unconscious?” Rhys asked.

“Yes. They wanted me to know what was wrong with you. But you are fine now,” Ashalle said, looking him over. 

Rhys led her over to sit on a nearby fallen log, taking a seat next to her. Ashalle reached to clasp his hands in her own and Rhys swallowed hard at the feel of her cool skin on his.

“I’m to leave the clan and become a Grey Warden. Marethari has already arranged it,” Rhys explained.

Ashalle looked shocked but she quickly regained her composure although her hands tightened around his own. 

“You must promise me that you will be careful. Your parents wouldn’t want you to take any unnecessary risks, especially without the clan there to keep an eye on you,” Ashalle said.

Rhys’s brows furrowed as she mentioned his parents. She’d rarely spoken of them in all his years growing up. All he knew was that they’d both died when he’d been five. Ashalle or any of the other clansmen had ever filled him in on any of the details no matter how many times he’d asked. And now he was going to be leaving. For good. 

“Will you finally tell me what happened to them?” Rhys asked.

“I will, but promise me it won’t change what you think of your mother. We were afraid that it would prejudice you against her.” There was a small pause and then she added, “And against humans,” Ashalle said. “We did not want you to grow up with such sorrow and anger.”

“You should know that I would never think that,” Rhys said.

“I know. I’ve always known that you had a very strong sense of right and wrong and that you had a sensible mind,” Ashalle said. She took a deep breath and said, “You know your mother was a beautiful woman. She easily attracted the attention of your father and they fell deeply in love. Then, when you were five, your father died defending hunters from bandits. He’d ordered your mother to return to the camp, to run before he died.”

“What about my mother? What happened to her?” Rhys asked.

“Your mother was so heartbroken after the loss of your father. She was strong but the clan believes the death of your father broke her. One day a few weeks after he died, she had disappeared. The other hunters searched for her but no one could find even a trace of where she went. But I know that she would have never willingly left you so something must have forced her to leave,” Ashalle said.

Rhys’s brows were pinched but Ashalle didn’t appear to notice as she lifted a hand to stroke his long red hair, watching the strands play off the light. Rhys knew what she wanted to hear. 

“Thank you for finally telling me. It is good to know the truth even if it is painful,” Rhys told her.

“Here you should have this. It’s a key to your mother’s chest. I know that she would want you to have it. Now you should go say your goodbyes to the others. Be smart and make me proud, son. I love you,” Ashalle said.

Rhys noticed there were tears forming in her eyes. She stood and walked away before he could say anything else.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once he had safely placed the box with the rest of his belongings he knew that there was one last person he wanted to say goodbye to in private. He found Aurora near the halla pens where he knew she would be. He allowed himself a moment to just look at her and attempt to memorize her one last time before he called out to her. Rhys had been in love with Aurora for as long as he could remember. 

Even though she had turned him down, Rhys couldn’t help but notice how her long blonde hair caught the last remaining rays of sunlight and seemed to glow. He thought to himself that this was how he wanted to remember her when he was gone, lit by the sunset and tending to the animals she loved the most.

“Hello Rhys, I’ve heard what’s happened. Have you come to say goodbye?” Aurora said glancing up.

“Yes. I thought I would get my goodbyes out of the way before the funeral. Duncan wants to leave first thing in the morning. Even before Marethari intends to start moving the camp out. I’m going to miss you,” Rhys told her.

“I’m going to miss you too,” she hesitated as if worried about what she was going to say next but then she gathered her courage and said it looking straight into his eyes. “I know that our friendship was never the same after what you told me. I was just worried that being around me would just hurt you more and I knew that I would never feel the same way you felt about me so I wanted to spare you as much pain as I could. That wasn’t fair of me. I should have trusted that you knew what you could handle. We missed out on years of friendship and I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to leave thinking that I wasn’t your friend.”

“I’ve never thought that, and it was just as much my fault as yours. I stayed away from you because I didn’t want you to feel awkward and think that I was only around you in the hopes that your feelings would change,” Rhys said.

“Well we’ve both been fools then. In case I don’t get a chance to say it later, goodbye Rhys,” Aurora said and then walked away from him for the last time.

Rhys went and packed his belongings until it was time for the funeral. Everyone was gathered around the fire and Hahren Paivel was standing in front of the crowd.

“We are gathered here to mourn the loss of one of our own. Tamlen was admittedly a bit of a troublemaker but we could always count on him in a tough situation to help out in whatever ways he could. He was a good and loyal friend and he will be missed. Is there anyone who would like to share a story or their thoughts about Tamlen?” Hahren Paivel addressed the crowd.

Many people took turns sharing their memories of Tamlen and what they would miss with him gone and traditional elven songs were sung. It seemed that Tamlen had managed to affect almost all of the elves in some way, even if it was just a small moment where he had talked to them or helped them with something when he didn’t need to. Although, of course, Tamlen wasn’t always helpful. He tended to cause trouble occasionally too, and the clan also shared stories of the times where he was caught creating mischief. An equal number of tears and laughs were shared that night.

Rhys finally stepped forward to share his own thoughts on his closest friend. “Tamlen and I have been friends since we were infants. We grew up together and were as close as brothers,” Rhys could feel the emotions he had been trying to avoid all day start to flood in.

The funeral suddenly made it all feel more real. He still felt guilty for letting Tamlen lead them into the cave. He had been the First and he should have used his authority to make Tamlen go back to camp. If he had instead of indulging Tamlen’s curiosity he wouldn’t be standing here at Tamlen’s funeral. He knew that he should say more but he wondered how he was ever supposed to be able to sum up twenty eight years of friendship and brotherhood.

“I will miss him every day for the rest of my life,” Rhys said softly.

Rhys stepped back to his place between Fenarel and Tristan as Hahren Paivel once again spoke to the group, “Would anyone else like to share?” When no one moved to say anything he stepped to the side to allow Marethari to stand front and center.

“The circumstances regarding Tamlen’s death are horrible. Forces that we don’t understand played a part in taking him from the clan before his time. As such we do not even have a body to lay to rest. However, Duncan was able to recover Tamlen’s bow. We will be using it, instead of his body, in the burial rites,” Marethari was holding the bow in front of her as she said this.

She turned and approached the small hole that had been prepared and gently placed the bow in it. Then she turned and gestured to Rhys to come forward once more. She was allowing him to complete the funeral rites and plant the seed that would grow into a tree over Tamlen’s grave.

He knew that this would be his last official duty as First and he was glad that Marethari had chosen him to be the one to do it rather than Merrill. He grabbed the slightly ornate box from Paivel and took a seed out. Then he gently placed it in the hole with the bow.

“Ir abelas, I am sorry,” he whispered before straightening back up and filling the hole in with dirt.

“May Falon’Din guide you safely to the Beyond,” Marethari said finishing the funeral rites. 

The clan members began to mingle and Rhys knew that many of them would stay there talking for hours but he was suddenly so tired and he didn’t want to be around so many people. He caught up to Fenarel and told him to get Tristan and to meet him at him near his aravel. He wanted to say his final goodbyes to his closest remaining friends in privacy.

Tris and Fenarel found him a few minutes later. “I think you’ve been avoiding us,” Tristan teased.

“No, not avoiding, I just wanted to save my goodbyes to the two of you for last. You know I’m leaving right?” Rhys asked.

“Yes, of course we do. Everyone in camp knows by now. We will miss you,” Fenarel said.

“And I’ll miss you both too. I just hope you two don’t get into any trouble without me here to keep an eye on you,” Rhys joked.

They spent the next few hours talking and reminiscing about Tamlen until Rhys realized that he still needed to finish his packing and get some sleep before he left with Duncan.

“Dareth shiral, my brother,” Fenarel said solemnly.

“Yes, safe journeys,” Tristan agreed before grabbing Rhys’s face in his hands and swiftly bringing their mouths together for just a moment. “For old times sake, one for the road, since we’re likely to never see each other again.”

Tristan’s eyes were sad as he said it. He’d already lost one brother today and now he was about to lose a second. 

Rhys was blushing furiously but he smiled at Tristan, squeezing his hand. 

Rhys looked between his friends, “I really will miss you both, and Tamlen too. I will keep you in my thoughts while I am gone. Good night.”


	2. Circumstance

Before she could find Soris, her other cousin and bridesmaids had finally tracked her down and began tackling the plain and frizzy mess that was her hair. Kellen had even decided to part with some of her makeup but Tabris had refused that, insisting that 'he ought to see something of the real her before they marry.'

When they had finished with her they sent her to fetch Soris. Her cousin was leaning against a post in the main square, somehow hiding in plain sight as no one seemed to be pestering him in swarms as they had attempted to do to her.

Soris's eyes widened when they saw her before he grinned and gave a small wave.

“Well if it isn't my lucky cousin? Here to celebrate the last of our independence together?” he asked.

Sarah laughed. “I'd celebrate getting out of this dress.” Before Soris could say anything she raised her hands, “No. Not like that. It's like a beacon. I can't go anywhere unnoticed.”

“I think that's the point. I don't know what you have to complain about though. I hear your betrothed is handsome. Mine sounds like a dying mouse,” he said.

“Soris,” she reprimanded, but couldn't keep from smiling. “I'm sure she's very nice.”

Soris rolled his eyes, putting his arm under hers. “Come on, let's go meet your dreamy betrothed.”

“Or we could run away and join a traveling band of minstrels,” Tabris said.

“Neither of us can sing.”

“I can sing...”

“Singing better than Shianni doesn't count for much, cousin.”

“Ha ha.”

Soris stopped in front of a couple of elves Sarah didn't recognize in front of the Venhadal. The woman was plain as were most of her features. Her eyes were brown, her nose was slightly large, and her lips were wide and thin. But she had a pleasant smile and her honey brown hair had been done up with care.

The elven man with her almost seemed to glow next to her, however. His eyes were blue and heavy lidded. His smile was soft and his lips full, centered perfectly beneath a set of high cheekbones and a straight nose. His eyes seemed to light up when they saw her and Sarah couldn't help but smile back.

Before anyone could speak to each other a shriek was heard not far off, the crowd in that area moving away. Soris grabbed Tabris's wrist as she looked that way.

“We should probably keep out of whatever is going on,” he said. “We don't need trouble today.”

“What if it's something to do with Shianni? We should at least see what's going on.”

“Fine, but let's be cautious.”

Sarah nodded as the two headed to where the other elves were coming from.

It was soon obvious where the chaos was coming from. In the alienage stood several men wearing fine clothes. One, the leader by the looks, had a hold of Nola, one of Tabris's bridesmaids. To the side were a couple of the groomsmen. With them Tabris saw Shianni, fists tightly clenched at her side.

“Nobles,” Tabris whispered.

“Great,” Soris muttered.

“It's a party isn't it? Grab a whore and have a good time,” the leader said, laughing.

Tabris fingers clenched into fists. Desperately she wished for a blade, to feel the comfort of it hidden away against her skin, even if she couldn't use it. Suddenly she was powerless, angry and afraid. She felt Soris grab her wrist and she looked at him, his face seeming to ask if she was alright and she just nodded curtly and he let his hand drop.

“Savor the hunt boys,” the man continued with his monologue. “This elven wench here. So young and vulnerable.”

He was looking at Shianni and Sarah could have laughed at that if the way the man hadn't said it had left her feeling distinctly unclean. This was a man who was cruel, hungry, and powerful enough to get away with achieving every one of his desires.

“Touch me and I'll gut you, you pig,” Shianni said.

Soris inhaled sharply as Tabris desperately wished she could find the words to smooth the situation over and get Shianni out of there. Maybe if this weren't some noble that had come into the alienage, Sarah would have been amused if not proud of her cousin for her bravery (even if alcohol had helped with that), but Shianni was clearly in over her head.

Gelvin, a groomsmen seemed to sense the same, turned to the man and begged, “Please, my lord, we're celebrating weddings here.”

“Silence worm,” the man snapped, backhanding the young elf so hard he hit the ground. He crawled back a couple of paces quickly before standing.

Soris grabbed Tabris's wrist again. “I know what you're thinking, but maybe we shouldn't get involved. I don't think you can talk your way out of this.”

“I have to try. Shianni is going to get herself killed.”

“Fine, but let's try to be diplomatic shall we?”

“What's this?” the man said, his voice lowering as he began to purr again.

The man approached Sarah, his followers narrowing in as well. She focused her gaze on the man as he suddenly took hold of her arms, just above her elbows. With effort she didn't struggle or look away from his sharp blue eyes.

“Another lovely one to keep me company?” he asked, leaning down closer to her face.

xxxx

Vaughan began to order his men to take the women from the ceremony down. The nobles grabbed the elven women, her two bridesmaids, Nola and Kellen, handing them to guards where they stood. 

Tabris stood in shock, waiting for someone to speak up, for the elves to do something, to stop him, to try to stop him. But no one spoke up. Not Valendrian, not her father, and her own voice was caught in her throat. She found herself selfishly hoping the humans would overlook her and she felt like a coward. Why isn't anyone doing anything?

“Now where's the bitch that bottled me?” Vaughan asked.

“Over here Lord Vaughan,” one of his pals said, grabbing Shianni roughly who struggled against him as he began to drag her off the stage.

“Let me go you stuffed shirt son of -” Shianni began, but her fear was more prominent in her voice than anger.

“Oh I'll enjoy taming her,” Vaughan said, sounding truly enthused by the idea. Then his voice lowered once more as he turned toward her, “And see the pretty bride.”

Nelaros went to stand in front of her. “Don't worry I won't let him take you.”

The fear in his voice snapped her out of her daze. She gently moved him aside so that Vaughan didn't simply swat him away.

“Such a well formed little thing,” Vaughan said, stepping into her personal space.

“I won't let you touch her,” Nelaros said.

Vaughan backhanded Nelaros who kept his feet and stood his ground. With an almost bored look to his friends, the other nobles dragged Nelaros away from them.

“Look, you don't need to do this,” Tabris said. “If you leave the others, I'll go with you willingly.”

“What are you talking about. Cousin -” Soris began.

“It wouldn't be much of a party then would it?” stepping so close she could smell his breath he said, “I don't need your permission.” Then standing up straight. “Oh but we are going to have some fun.”

Sarah felt arms around hers, restraining her. Before she could attempt to pull away, Vaughan punched her hard and her vision went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rhys awoke later than he had intended. Duncan had told him that he was welcome to accompany him to the Alienage if he was feeling well but it seemed that the elven mage had overslept that invitation. Now he was alone in the hotel with a pickpocket in a human city with nothing to do except for go outside and risk being gawked at, attacked, or dragged to a Circle.

Still, Rhys decided to try to find this Elvhen part of the city. When he did get pointed in the right direction, he realized this part of the city did not look particularly elvish as Mahariel had come to know it, but rather like less stable versions of the humans' buildings. 

Then he noticed an angry and scared looking crowd. Rhys approached and stood further back, toward the tree as he listened in on the conversation.

“We can't just leave them!” argued one of the better dressed elves. He had light hair and fine features. If Rhys had to guess it was likely one of the grooms.

“I don't want to either, but what are we supposed to do? We have no fighting ability. We don't stand a chance,” said a reddish brown haired individual beside him in similar garb.

“What's going on?” Rhys asked a man standing nearby.

The man didn't look at him, just staggered a bit as he tried to turn toward him before giving up. “Noble bastard took the bridal party, including the brides.”

“Took them? Took them for what?” Rhys asked, confused.

“Well it ain’t to hold up the paintings,” the drunk said before staggering off.

It took a moment before the reality dawned on Mahariel who stood horrified. Of course he knew that many humans disliked and distrusted elves. He had heard that they often treated his people with great cruelty. But somehow he had never pictured anything so horrific as a noble storming a wedding and taking the women while the entire village watched helpless.

“If we even try they'll purge the alienage. You'd kill us all if you went!” one woman cried angrily.

“We have to try!” the man insisted. “I am going, is anyone else going to go with me?”

The crowd stood silent, some of them quietly walking off. Eventually the groom turned to the other man who was dressed the same as he who was looking at his feet. 

Finally that man looked up and said, “I will go. I can't...I can't let you do this alone.”

“I will donate my sword and this bow to you,” Duncan said, handing the pair the weapons. “I cannot interfere as the Grey Wardens are neutral politically.”

Rhys pressed his lips together. He had sworn himself to the Grey Warden's service, but from birth he had been sworn to protect his People, a promise he had reiterated willingly throughout his life. He knew he was honor bound to help those men if he could, that his first promise took precedent over his new promise to the Wardens. And besides, he wasn't a Grey Warden yet and helping people who have been wronged shouldn't be a political statement, even if the villain in the situation was a noble.

But he knew that Duncan likely wouldn't approve of his desire to help. So instead of asking, he followed the two young elves until they were out of the Alienage before calling to them.

“You two, I want to help,” he said.

“Who are you?” the reddish brown haired elf asked who carried the crossbow. “I don't recognize your accent or voice.”

Rhys took off his hood and the two elves gawked at him.

“You're Dalish,” the man who had questioned him said, his voice sounding awed.

“You're really Dalish?” the other asked. “You've never lived in a city with humans?”

“I have not,” Rhys said. “My name is Rhysand Mahariel, former First of Clan Sabrae. You can call me Rhys.”

“I'm Nelaros,” the pale-haired one said, extending his hand. “Thank you for your help.”

“Soris.”

“Nice to meet you. Now let's go get your women back.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tabris had woken with a stabbing pain in her head but could only count herself lucky for seeming to suffer no other consequences of such a heavy blow. At first she had listened to the other women fret, going back and forth between submission and fighting. Sarah didn't feel in any condition to put up a fight despite being the only one with real training and the most experienced brawler. Still, if it was that or...or...no, she had decided she would rather die. But she wasn't willing to convince the others to do the same.

“You've been quiet cousin. Are you sure you're alright?” Shianni asked.

“I won't let them do this to me,” Tabris said, looking from her hands to Shianni. “If I don't...if I don’t make it...just please tell my dad I'm sorry, that I love him.”

“You're going to make it through this,” Shianni said. Her cousin reached forward and brought Tabris's head onto her chest like she did when she was little and was rocking her to sleep. “We're fighters. We'll make it through.”

Mom didn't make it through, Sarah thought. Her mother had fought for her freedom, for her independence, and she had won many times, but one time she hadn't. One time she had been too ill to win, to devise a way out, and that was the end of it. Her father had made Sarah swear not to follow in her footsteps, and she had tried her hardest to toe that line since. But in the end it hadn't mattered.

It was at this moment that the door opened and the women rose to their feet, except Nola who continued to pray, whispering under her breath as she shook back and forth.

“Hello ladies, we're your escorts to Lord Vaughan's little party,” the man in front said. Behind him stood three others.

Unexpectedly Nola stood and told them in a terrified voice, “Stay away from us!”

Without warning, the guard drew his blade down on her. Nola fell, blood gurgling and spilling from her throat as the others gasped. Tabris blinked, none of the situation felt real yet.

“You – you killed her,” Kellen said nervously.

“I suppose that's what happens when you try teaching whores respect,” the guard said, no remorse in his voice.

Shianni turned her gaze to her cousin, her eyes panicked. She grabbed her arms, “Please cousin, don't.”

Tabris just blinked, unable to truly process Shianni's request. The leader then instructed the men to take the other three women. Two men he instructed to stay with her, to keep her 'safe' because Vaughan was saving her for last. With that the leader shut the door behind him and Sarah heard it lock.

Unblinkingly the elf turned her eyes to the two men who didn't appear to be holding anything to bind her with.

“Now don't worry, we'll be perfect gentleman,” the man with a mustache cooed.

“You heard the Captain. Be a good little wench or you'll end up like your friend there,” the second said, far more rough.

The men approached her, the mustached one shoving her up against the wall and she stood there dumbly as he ran an unarmored hand along her cheek, then down her neck, toward her collarbone to the neckline of her dress. In the background the second man began taking off the armor on his chest casually. The man holding her ran his thumb just under her neckline before he suddenly moved his hand to her thigh, bunching up the dress there rapidly. And that is when the world seemed to snap into place for Sarah.

She screamed instinctively, quickly escaping the man's grasp which had loosened when she hadn't resisted. The second man began to try to reapply his armor as the first one went to draw his sword. But she saw in his sheath a dagger which she drew quicker than him and held it to his neck.

Before she could make use of her advantage, the second guard had grabbed her long hair (now in a braid) and thrown her to the floor, causing her to nick the first guard though she doubted it was serious. She'd managed to cling on to her dagger at least. He began to drag her by her hair, away from the other man but she quickly reached up and cut off the braid before leaping to her feet.

The first man had recovered and grabbed the hand with the dagger, raising it high as the second put his sword to her throat.

“I could kill you for what you did elf,” the first man said behind her. “Drop the dagger.”

“Kill me then,” she said evenly.

“Fine,” the man said and she could feel the tip of his sword press into her back through her dress.

“Don't Arnold,” the second man said. “That's what she wants.”

“Are you daft, Grant?” Arnold said from behind her. “She attacked me and now you tell me not to kill her because she wants to die?”

“She'd rather die,” Grant said, his eyes not leaving hers. “I think we should just carry on.”

With that he reached forward, yanking hard at her dress until the skirt ripped loose, revealing almost all of her left leg, with the right having a tiny scrap hanging halfway down her thigh. Arnold wrenched the blade free of Sarah's hand and threw it to the ground before reaching her mid section and ripping most of the top to shreds. Tabris screamed, kicking and bucking back against Arnold who could barely keep his hold on her despite being considerably smaller than him.

Finally Grant grabbed her chin hard, squishing her cheeks together as his face stayed less than two inches from hers, his body pressed to hers, bare from the waist up. 

“This is what you're afraid of isn't it?” he said.

And then blood spilled from his mouth. Shocked he backed up, the dagger in Sarah's hand dripping red. Before the man holding her could react, she reached up and stabbed, hitting him in the eye so that he let her go. She turned and thrust it deeper until he stopped screaming and fell to the ground as well.

Leaning down she yanked the dagger free of his face before turning to Grant's corpse and saying, “You talk too much but thanks for the dagger, shem.”

She walked over to Nola, closing her eyes and saying a prayer.

“I'm sorry,” she told the elven girl once she had recited her prayer. “I wish this hadn't happened. That I could take you with me. I don't want to leave you here but I don't have a choice.”

With that she returned once more to the Grant's body where she took the key off of him. In the corner she retrieved Arnold's dagger before exiting the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Kill her,” the noble said, looking at Tabris who had walked into the room with two daggers covered in blood to the hilt, a shredded wedding dress that was more crimson than white.

“Look at her she's wearing enough blood to fill a tub,” Vaughan said angrily to his lackey.

The battle to get to her cousin and the other elves had long ceased to be one where she had slowed or spent any time to think about the consequences of a trail of bodies. She had not intended to stop at the guards but to continue forth right onto Vaughan himself. 

It had only been when she had seen Shianni lying helpless and mostly undressed on the floor had she been able to stop the violence, to calm the singing in her veins that had told her they all needed to die for doing what they did to Nola, for enjoying what they had done to Shianni, for what they had tried to do to her.

“Your guards are dead,” she said, her voice cold, hollow.

“What? All of them?” one of them asked disbelievingly.

It was at that moment that Sarah rediscovered the ability to smile which she aimed at him, “Yes. All of them.”

“Let's not be too hasty here, surely we can talk this over,” Vaughan said.

“Talk?” she said, laughing, but her voice rough. “Ok Vaughan. Let's talk. You crashed my wedding, backhanded a groomsman and a groom, knocked me out, kidnapped me and my friends, gave your lackeys permission to rape me, violated my cousin, and murdered my bridesmaid. I, in turn, slaughtered your guards, one by one, with no armor and nothing but the daggers of the two men who ruined my wedding dress that took my father and I a year to save up for. Remember when I recommended we talk this over before your abduction scheme happened? I think we're past that point.”

“If you kill me your alienage will run red with blood,” Vaughan said. “Think about it.”

“You expect me to believe that you'd let me live if I walked out of here? That you wouldn't burn every hovel you so graciously allow us to inhabit to the ground the minute we step foot out of here?” Tabris said. “I think you plan on Purging it either way and a promise from you to an elf is as likely to be upheld as the laws forbidding the very things you did to me and my friends on my wedding day.”

“Stupid knife ear, you think this will end well for you?” Vaughan asked.

“I know I'm already dead. I've got nothing to lose.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The elven servant raised the keys to the dungeon doors, his hand shaking. Gently Rhys put his hand over the young boy's, taking the key and undoing the lock himself. Inside the room were two women. The one in a white dress had something of a mousy look to her, though her honey colored hair was excellently arranged. The other was a slender girl, skin tan with dark hair.

Rhys had stepped aside to let Nelaros and Soris inside.

“You came for us!” Valora said, sounding happily surprised. “I didn't think you could.”

“Are you alright? Do any of you need healing?” Rhys asked.

“Who? You're Dalish? No, I – they left us alone, said they were...saving us for later,” Valora said. Soris hugged her again.

“Where's Nola?” Soris asked her.

“She – she told them not to take her so they killed her,” Kellen said, beginning to cry. Valora hugged her, whispering things to her.

“Where's Sarah? And Shianni?” Nelaros asked. “Why aren't they with you?”

“They left Sarah with two men. Shianni said...Shianni said Sarah would rather die than...and the nobles took Shianni first,” Valora said.

“We need to get to Vaughan's room then, quickly,” Rhys said. Turning to the elven servant. “Can you lead us there?”

“It's this way,” the elven servant said, leading them up through the dungeons directly the the Arl's son's room. He pointed to the stairs, “It's right at the top.”

“Nelaros, stay behind with the women. Keep them safe,” Rhys said.

“No, I need to come with you,” Nelaros said, crossbow in his arms. “I came here to find Sarah, I won't stop until I know what happened.”

“And I'm not asking you to. When the danger has passed in that room, we'll come back for you. But they have a hostage in there and these two need someone to make sure no one sneaks up on them from this route. You're better with the crossbow than Soris who has some training with a sword and the longer we wait...”

Nelaros looked unhappy but nodded his assent. “Fine, but just that room.”

“I promise,” Rhys said.

Valora smiled at Rhys and said, “Thank you again.”

“I'll go first. Soris, aim for Vaughan. I'm going to try to talk our way out of this, but if it doesn't work then take a shot at him and then try to get your way to Shianni,” Rhys instructed.

Soris, following Rhys up the stairs. When they reached the top, Rhys inserted the master key the servant had given him and pushed the door open, entering quickly.

What he saw before him was unexpected. On the floor two nobles lie dead, and one seconds from following. A woman with bright red hair was pressed against the wall, furniture over her as some form of cover. In the center of the room stood a noble with a sword who had clearly taken a few minor jabs from his elven opponent. In the corner, one man continuously attempted to gain his feet but would slide down the wall again.

The elven woman wore what remained of a tattered dress, covered in so much blood it was impossible to tell if she was injured or not. She expertly dodged each attempted blow the noble aimed for her, using objects about the room to block him if necessary.

“Elven whore,” the man growled. “I will gut you, and string your intestines around that pathetic plant you call a tree and set it on fire. Everyone you care about will burn.”

As if on cue, she dodged his arm, using it to swing herself onto the noble's back where she slit his throat. “You first.”

Without looking, she took the dagger and threw it at the man who had finally regained his feet for a moment. It went through his eye, hilt deep, and he fell down.

She turned to those who had entered the room, her other dagger raised in her left hand and prepared to fight them. Her eyes focused on him first, intently, an almost scary light to them. He noticed it took her a few seconds longer than everyone else to notice his vallaslin. It wasn't until she turned her eyes from him to Soris that she lowered her arm, dropping her dagger as she fell to her knees.

Soris rushed toward her, getting on his knees as well and Rhys followed behind him.

“Are you alright cousin? What happened?” Soris asked.

“Do you need any healing?” Rhys asked kindly.

“No. I don't think so. Maybe. Shianni, she needs help more than me. She's under the couch,” Sarah said, pointing. “I think she passed out. Had to protect her.”

Rhys had trouble looking away from the small city elf on her knees before him, covered in blood. The Dalish had said that the city elves were not true elves, that they didn't have the same courage and skill the Dalish or “true” elves did. He had feared they might be right when he had watched the entire village refuse to help the grieving groom save his bride, but these two men had put a dent in that belief. Even Soris, who had been so afraid, had been brave in the face of it all. 

But this woman, after everything, had been strong enough to take on her villains while still giving more thought to others than herself? He didn't care what some of the Hunters in his clan might say, she was a true elf.

Slowly he moved away from her to find Shianni. Most of her injuries were beyond his current skill level so he did what he could, hoping that it would at least ease her pain and quicken the recovery process. She came to when she felt his magic touch her skin and she asked after Sarah.

“I'm fine Shianni,” Tabris said, now standing above them.

“What about Vaughan? The others?”

“I killed them all.”

“And Valora and Kellen are safe,” Soris added.

And that was when they heard the scream.

“Valora!” Soris said, recognizing his fiance's voice and running down the stairs. Tabris soon followed and Rhys looked after them, torn between helping them and leaving Shianni.

“Go, help them,” Shianni ordered.

By the time he reached the bottom stair, all but one of the five men were dead. Three had been taken down by blades, two seemingly by Tabris simultaneously. The fourth had been killed with a crossbow. A fifth fled down the hall but Rhys froze the man, waiting for his insides to freeze before sending a mound of earth to shatter him.

Sarah hadn't bothered with the fleeing man's fate. Instead she was already on the ground, propping up Nelaros who was gravely injured into her lap.

“Please, heal him,” she said, looking up at Rhys.

“I can't. I'm sorry. I'm not a healer, I can't fix a wound that bad,” Rhys said.

Tabris nodded looking back to her fiance.

“You came for me, didn't you?” she asked him.

“This isn't...your fault. I promised to spend every day....making you happy. Wouldn't be much of...a husband if I didn't try on the first day,” Nelaros managed to say.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” she said, running her hand gently down his face.

“Try,” Nelaros said, reaching up to touch her face weakly as well. “To be happy. For me.”

His arm fell down weakly but with his other hand he placed something in Tabris's palm. A golden ring, engraved. With that he gave one final breath and was gone.

Sarah hung her head, tears falling from her eyes. Finally she opened, them rising as she held the ring in her fist. “We should take the bodies back, for the funeral.”

Another funeral, thought Mahariel.

No one argued, despite the logistics of carrying two bodies back across the city to the Alienage without getting caught. Rather, Soris helped lift Nelaros up, but when they had picked him up, she took his arms, putting her fiance on her back.

“I've got him,” she said.

“Cousin -” Soris began.

“I've got him. Help Shianni.”

They went upstairs to retrieve Nola's body. Rhys counted the bodies on their way back to the room the women had initially been held at and that didn't include the bodies that may be down side passages and in other rooms. If she had left any guards alive, none came to stop the group as they retrieved Nola and left the estate.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rhys watched Tabris from across the campfire. She was wearing commoner clothes, her light armor underneath that. He wondered what she was thinking about though he figured he had a pretty good idea given his own experiences before recruitment. 

The city guard had come almost as soon as they had reached the Alienage border and she had taken all responsibility for what had happened there. Duncan had conscripted her and they had left the city immediately after retrieving Daveth who now lie asleep in his bed roll. Duncan had gone off, to hunt or meet with contacts in the nearby village Rhys wasn't sure.

“I've never been this far outside the city,” Sarah said, her eyes meeting his, acknowledging that Rhys had been staring at her and offering him conversation.

“That seems odd to me,” Rhys said, a gentle smile. “I had never been in a city until yesterday.”

“Bet it was a riot,” she said sarcastically before fixing her gaze back on the flames.

After a long silence Rhys got up to get some water. When he returned he brought an extra cup for Sarah and sat down beside her, offering it to her.

“They'll purge the Alienage,” she said with no emotion.

“What does that mean exactly?”

“They will kill every man, woman, and child they see until they feel like they've killed enough, locking us all in until they're done. If I ever go back...I don't know how I could face them.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“They won't see it that way. It doesn't matter - their anger doesn't matter. My dad, Soris, Shianni, my whole family is there and I left them and now they have to deal with it without me. I can't help them anymore. I can't...” Sarah pushed out her open hands, palms up. “And Nelaros. He died because of me. We were supposed to protect each other and on the first day of the rest of our lives I get him killed. I didn't even...Duncan had us start on the road so I wouldn't sneak back in for the funeral. I'm almost certain of it.”

“I'm sorry,” Rhys said.

“I didn't thank you for helping us,” Sarah said. “So, thank you.”

“I didn't do much helping though that doesn't seem to please Duncan,” Rhys said.

“He forbid you from helping?”

“No,” Rhys said. “But I knew he would have if I'd asked, so I didn't.”

Sarah laughed weakly, “Seems the Commander is doomed to not care much for his new recruits. 'That it saved your life is circumstance.' Sometimes I feel that's all an elf's life is to humans, circumstance.”

“I don't think he meant it like that,” Rhys said.

“I know. But I think he probably could have waited until I'd bathed off the gallons of blood before he decided to be so blunt,” Tabris said, throwing a stick on the fire. “So, how did you end up here? We've a murderer and a pickpocket so far.”

“My best friend died and I got tainted. Apparently becoming a Warden is a cure,” Rhys said simply.

“I'm sorry,” Sarah said.

“I can't say I know what you're going through but his death, it feels like my fault. I was supposed to be a leader in my clan and I didn't stop him from doing something I thought might be dangerous. I feel like he died because of me, because of that,” Rhys said.

“I'm sorry.”

After a long moment of silence Sarah said, “I wonder if he has some tragic story.” She nodded at the pickpocket. “Do you think it's a requirement?”

“I don't think it's a requirement so much as a personal goal Duncan sets for himself,” Rhys joked. “But it seems unlikely there would be too many more such tragedies we're likely to encounter before heading to Ostagar.”

“Wow, way to jinx it,” Sarah said. “I'll remember this when we get to Ostagar and we're one hot broody mess.”

Rhys laughed.


	3. Betrayal

Rachel Cousland took a moment to steady her nerves, her hands smoothing down her already smooth skirt. First Arl Howe had suggested she marry Nathaniel of all people. Not in such explicit terms but she knew what his subtext was and the look he’d given her had certainly given away his intentions if nothing else had. That had been unsettling enough on its own. 

But then her father had asked for the leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens to be shown in. Duncan had been polite and well spoken and very much like how Rachel would have pictured a Warden Commander. He was going to be looking into Gilmore which gave Rachel conflicted feelings. But that wasn’t what was making her nervous right now. 

The small group of Warden recruits she was supposed to entertain and see to while Duncan was here were making her nervous. Especially with the knowledge she now had thanks to her father insisting she stay during their meeting. A Dalish mage. A Pickpocket. And a city elf who had been accused of killing Vaughan Kendalls. 

Not that Vaughan’s demise was a problem. He’d deserved some sort of punishment for the way he’d treated people - particularly elves - for years now. 

The problem was that Rachel wasn’t sure how to interact with any of them exactly. She’d had more freedoms than some of her friends but she knew she’d still been largely sheltered from the outside world. And now her father was just thrusting her into the role of a proper lady of the house without much warning at all. 

Waiting around wasn’t going to make her nerves settle any so with one last breath she opened the door and went out to survey the group in front of her. 

She immediately noticed a man at the front leaning against the wall with a cocky grin on his face. She realized he must be the pickpocket when she noticed what appeared to be one of her families ornate candlesticks poking out of the top of his bag and she decided to ignore it for now. She could always have Duncan confront him about his stealing later. 

Next to him she saw what was clearly the Dalish elf, holding a staff. He had bright red hair that was braided along the sides keeping his long hair back away from his pointed ears. He also had a facial tattoo that swept across his cheekbones. She was close enough to realize that it was dark blue in color.

And finally, standing fairly close behind the Dalish elf was a short elven woman who appeared to be doing her best to blend into the wall. If she hadn't known to look for three Warden recruits, it might have been easy to overlook the elf who was wearing a loose fitting top typical of most of the elven servants at Highever paired with an equally plain pair of brown pants. Rachel thought she could just faintly see the outline of armor under her plain outfit. Whereas the Dalish smiled at her, seeming open and friendly, the woman wouldn't even look in her direction.

“Welcome to Highever. I’m Rachel Cousland and I’ll be seeing to all of you while my father and brother are away,” Rachel said slipping into her role as the lady of the house. 

Her natural shyness always made this feel awkward but she knew that her father was counting on her and she didn’t want to disappoint him. She was nervously grabbing handfuls of her dress aware that they were all watching her. 

“Please feel free to come to me with any needs you might have. If you’d like to follow me I’ll show you to your rooms.”

She led them through several hallways and stairwells until she reached the guest wing. She made sure to keep them on a different floor, far away from Howe, as she wasn’t sure how he would react once he learned about Vaughan’s murder. 

“There are enough rooms on this floor that you can all have separate rooms if you wish, or if you prefer you can share. Whatever makes you the most comfortable is fine with me,” Rachel said as they all spread out in the hall. “I can give a tour to anyone who wants one.”

“I’ve stayed here many times before so a tour is unnecessary for me. But if you could show the recruits around I would appreciate it. Here I believe this is yours,” Duncan said handing her the candlestick she had saw in the pickpocket’s bag. “Now, if you could direct me to Ser Gilmore I will start to attend to my business here.”

“At this time of day he’s probably at the training grounds,” Rachel informed him and he nodded politely before heading off back down the hall and out of sight.

The three recruits remained standing in front of her. 

“Would you like to pick a room and put your bags in it before we start the tour? And it might help if I actually knew your names,” Rachel said.

She felt slightly more comfortable now that the group she was addressing was so small and didn’t involve the Commander although she still wasn’t completely at ease since she didn’t know any of them.

The Dalish elf took a step forward still smiling gently at her, “I’m Rhysand Mahariel, but you can call me Rhys.” He paused and glanced at the other elf who was still quietly standing just behind him. He seemed to come to a conclusion and said, “This is Sarah. Your proper title is Lady Cousland right?”

“Yes, but I’d prefer it if you all just called me Rachel.”

“I’m Daveth, my lady,” the pickpocket said and then grasped her hand and brought it to his lips placing a kiss on her knuckles. 

Rachel instantly felt her face turn bright red and she jerked her hand away from him quickly stepping farther away from him. She opened her mouth trying to say something, although she had no idea what she wanted to say, so she closed it again.

“You shouldn’t do things like that, especially after she’s been such a gracious host and you’ve been caught stealing from her,” Rhys said scolding him. Rachel was extremely relieved by his presence and she could understand why the quiet elf, Sarah, was sticking so closely to him. “Now how about that tour?”

Rachel regained her ability to speak, “Right, this way.” 

She led them through the castle telling them about each room and its history. Rhys occasionally asked questions about certain rooms or the objects found in them. His openness and charm were making Rachel feel more and more at ease and she no longer felt self conscious every time she spoke. She also made sure to keep a safe distance from Daveth as she didn’t want a repeat of the hand kissing incident. Although she was keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t try to pocket anymore of their heirlooms. Sarah continued to stay silent and followed them around sticking close to Rhys.

When they reached the servants quarters there was a little elven girl playing on the floor. Rachel walked over to her and knelt down next to her. “Hello Nia,” she said. “How have you been? I know I haven’t been down to see you in a few weeks.”

The little blonde girl appeared to be five or six years old at most. She was playing with a doll but put it aside to look at Rachel. “I’m good. My brother went to the big city to get married. Mommy and Daddy are happy for him but I miss him a ton,” Nia said.

“The big city? You mean Denerim?”

“Yeah! I just hope he comes back to visit me sometimes.”

“I’m sure he will. I know how much he loves you.”

Rachel noticed Sarah dart back down the hallway suddenly and she started to rise up to follow after her. Rhys held up a hand, “It’s ok I’ll go. She doesn’t trust nobles.” Then he too took off down the hallway leaving Rachel, Daveth, and the confused little girl staring after them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mahariel had known something was brewing within his fellow elf the moment they had stopped in the hallway. From the way Sarah’s breath had caught when the noble had uttered the elven child’s name, to the way she had been slowly backing away from the group as they talked. It hadn’t taken him long to realize exactly who Nia’s brother was and why his fellow Warden recruit was no longer able to keep herself together.

He chased her down three halls before she slowed and he caught up to her. Rhys could have caught her earlier, his longer legs aching to run from riding a horse since he’d left his clan only to be broken up by an all day tourney yesterday. Still, he knew she needed her own time to calm down, and he had let her come to a halt on her own.

“Rhysand,” she said, her voice sounding panicked. “I can’t do this. I can’t go back there.”

“It’s going to be alright,” Mahariel said, coming to stand close to her.

Tabris leaned back against the wall, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “I’m a coward. I can’t stop thinking about...about everything. Ever since we came here, I just...I knew this would be bad. I knew that it was a possibility that his family...but how does she know them? What are the odds? Why did she have to bring us there?”

“I don’t think she did anything improper,” Rhys said. “It was just a coincidence the girl, Nia, was there.”

“And it was just a coincidence that he had to marry me. That I can’t stop…” Tabris took a deep, shaky breath. “How are you alright? You lost your friend. I...I can’t do this.”

Mahariel didn’t tell her that the knowledge Tamlen was dead didn’t stop the small seed of hope that somehow he was alive. He hadn’t thought as much about his friend since the thief and the elf before him had been recruited as well, his thoughts dedicated to them and his future. Telling her that the possibility, however unlikely, that his friend was alive allowed him to distract himself wasn’t going to help her.

“Before the estate, had you ever killed someone?” Mahariel asked.

Tabris’s eyes darted back to his, sharp. “Why?”

“I’m not judging you, I’m just asking.”

“No. But they deserved it and it isn’t as if I have never seen death. Death is too common in the Alienage,” Sarah said.

“But had you ever caused someone’s death before or felt you had?”

He saw her eyes dart away and then back to his. “Just one other person,” she said quietly.

“I think that’s the difference,” he said. “I’ve helped lead my clan since I was small. I grew up knowing, seeing, experiencing what it meant to have someone’s death be on my head. That doesn’t make you less brave than me.”

“What should I do? I know I should tell his family what happened to him,” Sarah said. “They should know the truth, know how brave he was. But his sister, she’s so young.”

“If you think you need to tell her family, then perhaps you should. I think he’d want that,” Mahariel said.

Sarah nodded heavily. “Alright, I will.”

Rhys nodded back behind him. “We should probably get back to Lady Cousland.”

“Before some other noble dies and I get their death pinned on me,” Tabris said, but smiled at him and came to walk at his side.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel and Daveth were both sitting next to Nia when Rhys and Sarah walked back down the hallway. Sarah still looked a little shaken but Rachel hadn’t been able to think of what could have caused it. She felt like Sarah was the biggest mystery in the group of warden recruits. Rhys and Daveth were easy to read compared to the quiet elven woman.

“Would it be possible for me to speak to the girl’s parents?” Sarah quietly asked.

“Of course. I’ll take you there now. Her father, Alexander, works in the stables, and her mother, Eliza, is one of my mother's personal ladies,” Rachel said and stood up. They went to the stables where a tall elven man was brushing a horse. “Alexander, would you be able to come with me for awhile?” Rachel inquired.

“Of course, my lady,” Alexander replied putting down the brush.

Rachel once again led them through hallways until they reached a wing that was fancier than the rest of the castle and was clearly where the family lived. 

“Wait here a moment,” Rachel said stopping in front of a closed door. She went inside and a moment later came out again with a slender blonde elven woman. “Here. The three of you can talk in my rooms,” she said leading them to a door a little ways down the hall. “We can wait here? Or if you’d prefer you can talk and then Alex could show you back to your room?”

Sarah blinked, staring almost incomprehensibly at Rachel before finally looking to the elves at her side. “I - I think maybe it would be best if Alex would show me back. I may be a while and I don’t want to inconvenience you. I - thank you.”

Rachel just nodded and then led the others back downstairs.  


xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sarah watched as Rachel led the others down the stairs, unable to believe the noble was so trusting of her elven servants. Finally she shut the door and turned around and Eliza smiled at her, despite looking confused and said, “You had something you wanted to talk to us about?”

“I - yes,” Tabris said, her heart racing. “I’m from Denerim and -”

“Denerim? Did you just come from there? Did you go to our son’s wedding?” the woman asked, a large smile on her face.

“We desired to go ourselves but with so many stationed here, we couldn’t possibly go until the soldiers leave,” Alexander added.

“How was it?” Eliza asked, her large blue eyes the same color as her son’s.

Tabris shut her eyes as she heard his final cry ring through her ears as she doubled over. She could feel herself losing control, falling back into the memories. A gentle but calloused hand on her arm allowed her to open her green eyes to stare at Alexander. His face was sad but knowing, understanding. His blonde hair shone just like his son’s, just like Nia’s.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, crying. “I’m so sorry.”

Eliza put her arm around the girl. Her husband, standing tall above both, encircled them with his arms.

“What happened?” Eliza asked.

“My name is Sarah Tabris. I wrote your son, you know, before the wedding,” she said.

Nelaros’s mother smiled gently at her, a small smile on her lips but Sarah could see the panic building in her eyes as well. She had to know the news that was coming.

“We know, we saw the letters. He always hid them under the mattress and Nia would run off with them,” Eliza said.

“What happened?” Alex asked.

Sarah sighed and took a step back from the couple. “On our wedding day a human came into the Alienage. It turned out he was the Arl’s son and he took me and the other females in the wedding including my cousin, Shianni. They knocked me unconscious and when I came to we were at the Arl’s estate and they were going to...Your son came for me despite having little help. It was just him and Soris until the other elf you just saw, the Dalish, joined them. He died trying to save me and the others from the guards. I couldn’t get to him in time to help and he...he died in my arms. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“Maker,” Eliza whispered, tears running down her face, as she held her symbol of Andraste that hung about her neck.

Suddenly Sarah felt herself dragged into another, desperate hug. “Thank so much for telling us,” Eliza said. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. It’s not your fault. You’re still my daughter.”

She then felt Alexander’s arms on her again as well, though this time they shook. “You will have a home here,” he said, “if ever you need it.”

Tabris couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was sure that they would blame her for his death, that they had every right to. She felt that it was her fault, had been so sure of it. Hearing his parents now, she couldn’t help but feel a weight lift from her chest as she cried. His parents were just as kind and compassionate as he had been in the short time she had known them.

When the trio finally moved apart, they were all tired from crying, faces pale, eyes puffy.

“I kept this,” Sarah said finally, pulling out the ring she had threatened to end Daveth’s life over if he ever came near her pocket. “I thought maybe you -”

“Keep it dear,” Eliza said. “He made that for you, he’d want you to have it.”

Sarah nodded, her throat tight. Alexander’s hand gently took the ring from her and she looked up at him as he took a chain from his neck, a thin golden one that looked like it had been worked the same as her ring, and placed the ring on it before putting it back on her neck.

“There,” he said. “Now you won’t have to worry about pickpockets.”

The chain fell down so that the ring hung in the center of her chest, and Tabris put her hand over it, feeling how right it felt there.

“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

“You won’t be staying,” Eliza said, sadly.

“I will stay for as long as I can,” Sarah said. The two looked at her for a further explanation. “The Arl’s son, the man who took me. I killed him. The Wardens recruited me and I am here with them, for however long that will be. As it is when the news hits Highever, it will probably be best for all of us if I am not around.”

“I am so sorry child,” Eliza said, hugging her tight and quick once more. “Please, come to see us again tomorrow if you are able.”

“My son, his body, what happened to it?” Alexander asked. “Was it left at the noble’s estate?”

Tabris looked at him, glad she could give him what little good news she had to offer. “No, I carried it back to the Alienage and I assure you he was given a proper service. I’m sorry but I wasn’t able to be there for myself, the Warden and the city guard would not allow me to stay for it.”

Alexander nodded, before leaning in to kiss her forehead gently. “Thank you.”

After a few moments the couple gathered themselves, leading Sarah to a room and bed that seemed slightly more comforting than it had that morning.

xxxxxxxxxx

Rachel had led the others back to their rooms to give them time to get ready for dinner. She had gotten ready herself before she went across the hall and knocked on Fergus’s door. A voice called for her to enter and she saw Fergus putting on the rest of his armor; his sword was already tucked in its scabbard.

“Ah, sister, come in,” Fergus gestured at Rachel to come closer.

“I was coming to tell you that father said for you to leave with the troops tonight and that he would set out in the morning but it looks like you already know,” Rachel said.

“Yes, well if you would have came right here instead of spending hours touring the grounds with those warden recruits you could have been the one to tell me,” Fergus teased.

“Father said to make our guests feel at home. Have you spoken to Howe yet? He wanted to fix me up with Nathaniel,” Rachel said, giving him a look.

Fergus laughed, “That would have been awkward all around. It’s a good thing he didn’t bring him this time. He probably would have forced the issue more.” He raised his eyebrows at her, “ Although, I really don’t know why the two of you insist on keeping your relationship secret. It’s hardly scandalous. I don’t think anyone would really care.”

“I would care.”

At that moment Fergus’s wife, Oriana, and his son, Oren, walked in. “You’re already dressed? Are you leaving so soon? I thought you would at least be staying for dinner,” Oriana said.

“We have to set out while there’s still some light if we want to actually get anywhere tonight. I’m supposed to meet my men in a few minutes,” Fergus said while pulling Oriana into his arms. “I’ll miss you while I’m gone and I’ll think about you every day.”

“We’ll miss you too,” Oriana said and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Is there really going to be a war Papa? Will you bring me back a sward?” Oren asked with childish enthusiasm. Rachel couldn’t help but smile at her nephew.

“You mean sword. And I promise I will find you the best and mightiest sword I can. I’ll be back before you know it to give it to you,” Fergus knelt down and pulled his son into a hug.

“I’ll pray to the Maker to keep you safe, my love,” Oriana knelt down hugging her son and husband.

“Thank you, dear, I should be back in a few months.”

“Just make sure you don’t take any foolish risks.”

“I swear I won’t. I promise I’ll come back to you both.”

The teyrn and teyrna walked into the room as Fergus and Oriana were straightening back up. 

“We’ve come to see you off, son,” their mother said. 

Eleanor Cousland couldn’t hide the worry that she was feeling. Rachel knew that as long as Fergus was gone her mother would be scared that he was going to be injured or killed. She knew that her mother would be spending more time in their small chapel praying for his safety, as well as Bryce’s once he too left. Oriana would more than likely join her.

“You heard the news about Arl Howe’s men being delayed?” their father asked.

“Yes, you would think they were marching backwards for how long it’s taking them to get here,” Fergus joked.

“Howe says they’ll be here early tomorrow. That’s why I’m delaying my own departure until tomorrow afternoon,” Bryce explained. “How were the wardens and the recruits?”

“Good. I spent the afternoon showing the recruits around. Daveth, the pickpocket, only tried to steal from us once, but Duncan caught him. We’ll probably need to check him again before he leaves though just to make sure he doesn’t take anything else. Rhys, the Dalish elf, is very personable. I quite like him,” Rachel paused not knowing what to say about the mysterious elven woman.

“And the third recruit? The potential murderer?” the teyrn inquired.

“What? A potential murderer? In our castle?” the teyrna sounded scandalized and Oriana’s eyes were wide. 

Rachel could see that she had placed her hands over Oren’s ears even though the damage was clearly already done, Oren’s mouth was hanging open. Fergus was chuckling quietly seeming not at all surprised at the direction the conversation had took.

“The city elf, Sarah, was very quiet the whole time. Well until I took them to the servants quarters. Nia was there and when I was talking to her Sarah suddenly ran off. Rhys had to go find her and calm her down. Afterwards she asked to speak to Nia’s parents. The whole situation was very peculiar but I let her talk to them. We can always ask Eliza or Alex what it was about later if you want. Although, I don’t want to break her trust. She clearly doesn’t trust nobles as it is and I don’t want to further that distrust if we don’t have to,” Rachel said. 

Oriana had taken her hands off Oren’s ears at some point during Rachel’s short speech.

“You’ve done an excellent job today. I’m sure you’ll continue to do just fine while I’m gone,” her father said with pride in his voice. “It’s past time for Fergus to meet his troops. We should all say our goodbyes and let him leave.”

“Goodbye Papa. Don’t forget to bring me my sword,” Oren said hugging his father around the knees.

“Goodbye son. Mind what your mother tells you and be a good boy,” Fergus said patting the back of his head.

Rachel went over to hug him next, “I’ll miss you, brother. Stay safe.”

“Goodbye my darling boy,” their mother said tears glistening in her eyes.

“Goodbye mother. Rachel make sure you look after her while I’m gone. Oren and Oriana too,” Fergus said.

“Mother is more than capable of taking care of herself. She’s way better with a bow than I am,” Rachel smiled at her mother.

“That’s true. Maybe she should be the one leading the troops instead of me,” Fergus laughed.

“Don’t be ridiculous you two. If I left who would stay here to make sure my grandson stays out of trouble,” Eleanor said joining in the joking.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Fergus,” Bryce simply said then took Eleanor’s hand and left the room.

“That just leaves you, my darling wife. Rachel take Oren down to dinner so I can have a moment alone with her before I have to leave,” Fergus said.

Rachel took Oren’s hand and pulled him towards the door. She could hear Fergus faintly whispering reassurances to Oriana as they walked out into the hall. She knew that Oriana was worried that something would happen to him, especially since it had been so long since Fergus had left to travel with the troops. She was worried too but she was confident in her brother’s abilities and knew that he wouldn’t take too many dangerous risks. She chatted absent mindedly to Oren on the way to the dining hall to take both their minds off Fergus’s departure.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel was trying to find Ser Gilmore. She had meant to talk to him at dinner but he had chosen to sit with his guardsmen friends and Rachel had decided to sit with Oriana and Oren to try to cheer them up. She had also kept an eye on the wardens and their recruits who were a little farther down the long table from her. 

Rhys clearly got along with his fellow recruits and seemed to have no problem at all conversing with the rest of the castle's inhabitants. Sarah was clearly only there because Rhys had asked her to be. She spent most of the dinner looking like she would rather disappear into the wall they were seated by than remain in her seat at the Cousland family table. The family had meant it as an honor and a gesture of respect but Sarah had looked as if she thought it was the complete opposite. 

Daveth, on the other hand, appeared to be trying to draw attention to himself. He was seated a few places down from Rachel but he had still managed to make several loud comments which she was fairly sure were his attempts at flirting, and he still insisted on calling her my lady much to her displeasure. 

When the meal had ended she had tried to catch Gil but he had slipped out the door before she could make her way over to him. She had already looked for him in his room and a few other places he liked to frequent but he was nowhere to be found so she was on her way to the training yard hoping he’d be there. Jaime, her mabari, was trailing after her. As she walked through the arch leading into the training grounds she saw Gil hitting one of the straw dummies with his sword. She walked closer to him and he grinned when he saw her. Rachel could feel her face flush slightly as it always did when Gil smiled at her.

“I’m guessing you already know that the Grey Warden wants to recruit me?” Gil questioned.

“Yes, I was with Father when Duncan first showed up. You must be so proud. The Grey Wardens are an honorable group. Although, I’ll miss you if you leave,” Rachel said shyly.

“Yes, well nothing's decided yet. That’s why I’m here practicing. Duncan wants me to fight one of the other wardens in the morning to see if he thinks I’m fit to join them. I’ve fought in battles before so I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Gil admitted.

Some of his bangs were falling into his eyes, giving Rachel the urge to reach up and brush them back, instead she bunched the material of her dress in her hands. Gil walked over to the weapons rack and grabbed two daggers. 

“Here, you can help me practice.” He handed them to her hilt first and smiled at her again.

“That’s hardly a fair fight. I’m wearing a dress and you’re in armor,” Rachel said skeptically.

“I could take it off if you’d prefer?” he teased.

Rachel’s eyes went wide as she flushed. She wondered if he knew about her hopeless crush on him and whether or not he knew the effect he had on her. Sometimes she let herself hope that his flirting meant that he was interested in her too; but if he was he never made any actual moves or said that he wanted their friendship to become anything more.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Rachel finally said and moved into a fighting stance. 

Jaime moved to sit off to the side as he was used to seeing the two fight. Gil mimicked her actions and soon they were sparring. Rachel was able to move decently in her dress and she was glad that she had chosen one that didn’t hinder her movements the way some of her other gowns did. 

Gil was the better swordsman, mainly because he had actually had a chance to test his abilities against true opponents, but he made sure to keep the fight even while still straining her own fighting abilities. She loved sparring with him because he helped her to realize her own weaknesses and work to overcome them. 

They fought for a time until Gil was able to get past her defenses. He hooked an ankle around her leg and pushed her to the ground falling with her and pinning her down with his body, making sure to keep his weight off of her. He gently grabbed her arms and pushed her daggers out of them. Rachel suddenly found it very hard to breathe and her face felt like it was on fire.

“Do you yield?” Gil whispered and she swore she saw his gaze dart towards her mouth.

Unable to think coherent thoughts let alone voice them Rachel just shook her head yes. Gil rolled to the side and for a few moments they both just lay there. Rachel was certain she wouldn’t be able to look Gil in the eyes without thinking of this moment ever again. After what felt like an eternity he rose to his feet and reached down to help her up.

“Right - well… great practice… good night,” Rachel managed to stammer before turning and practically running away.

“What was that? He’s never… We’ve never… Maker’s breath.” 

Rachel couldn’t focus her thoughts and instead just mumbled to Jaime all the way back to her rooms. She got ready for bed in a daze and when she finally lay down to sleep she couldn’t control the giggle that erupted from her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel woke up to the sound of screams and the clash of swords. She instantly jumped to action and began throwing on her light chainmail armor. She was just reaching for her daggers when the door was thrown open and three armed men wearing the Howe family emblem burst in. Jaime leapt on one and the man screamed as the dog’s teeth bit into his flesh. Rachel moved to take on the remaining two men. 

She was able to take out the first man fairly quickly but the second was proving to be a challenge. He was too well trained and she was worried he was going to best her when suddenly an arrow came flying and hit him right in his chest. He fell to the floor without a sound and Rachel looked up to see her mother standing behind them.

“Mother! What’s happening? Why are Howe’s men attacking us?” Rachel panicked.

“I don’t know, dear. But, we must find the rest of the family. Your father can protect himself but Oren and Oriana aren’t trained,” Eleanor moved down the hall towards Fergus’s room. 

They saw that the door had been kicked in and there was blood on the floor. Feeling a sense of dread Rachel stepped farther into the room and gasped holding her hand to her mouth when she saw the bodies of Oren and Oriana, crumpled on the floor in a pool of their own blood.

“Who would do such a thing? He’s just a child!” Rachel felt tears starting to fall down her face. Jaime pushed against her legs providing her with silent support.

Her mother was openly crying as well but she soon gathered her wits and began pulling Rachel back into the hall, “I know it’s monstrous but we can’t help them now. We can, however, help the others in this castle who we owe protection to.”

Rachel was amazed at the strength her mother was displaying during this horrific event. She knew she should try to be more like her even though at the moment all of her instincts were telling her to find a closet or hidden room somewhere and just break down and cry.

“We should also go to the treasury. There are weapons we can use and we also need to make sure Howe and his men don’t get their hands on our family sword,” Eleanor said.

Her mother was doing everything she could to give Rachel a purpose to focus on so she wouldn’t lose her to the horror they were both feeling.

Rachel nodded her acquiescence and they set off through the halls. They fought their way through Howe’s men, helping servants and guests whenever they could. They arrived at the door to the treasury and saw a group of their men guarding it. Eleanor hurried to unlock the door and then instructed the men to gather what weapons they needed. Rachel found the Cousland family sword displayed on the wall in the back of the armory and tucked it in her scabbard. The weight was unfamiliar to her as she was used to her much smaller daggers but she knew that she must keep the precious heirloom safe as it had been in the family for many generations. Her mother grabbed the Shield of Highever and placed it across her own back to keep it safe as well.

Their family weapons now secure the teyrna and Rachel set off through the halls again. Howe’s men were destroying everything in sight and occasionally they had to detour around in order to go anywhere. Finally they made it to the dining hall where more of their men were being led by Ser Gilmore. Rachel felt a sense of relief to see him standing before her unharmed.

“Gil! Have you seen my father?” Rachel asked. 

None of the soldiers they had ran into seemed to know where her father or Howe had gone.

“He was headed to the kitchens last I knew. He said something about a hidden passage. Where are Oriana and Oren? Are they safe?” Gil asked with concern.

“They- they didn’t make it. Howe’s men butchered them like animals. I don’t understand how someone could do that to a defenseless woman and child,” Rachel said angrily, her eyes stinging with tears.

Gil looked at her in sympathy and pulled her into a quick hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Behind Gil the dining hall’s main door was starting to shudder. It was evident that the wood wasn’t going to withstand much more force.

“You have to go and find that secret passage. I’ll stay here with the men and guard the door. We can at least buy you some extra time once Howe’s men break through,” Gil started to herd her toward the small side door closest to the kitchens.

“No! We can’t just leave you here,” Rachel said.

She knew him and she knew that in staying behind he was planning on sacrificing his life to try to give her a chance at escaping the castle with her own. Eleanor slipped out the door along with two soldiers.

“You have to go. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you and I hadn’t done everything in my power to keep you safe,” Gil was looking into her eyes very intently. 

He paused for a moment as if to contemplate something and then nodded to himself. Suddenly he placed both hands gently on her face and brought his mouth down to hers. Rachel stood motionless for a few seconds in shock before she eagerly returned the kiss and then just as quickly as he had kissed her he pulled away. 

“I just wanted to do that while I still had the chance,” Gil smiled sadly at her. “Now go before they break through the door.” 

Then he turned around and strode back over to the line of soldiers by the door, holding his sword up in front of him. He glanced back one last time and Rachel saw him mouth “Go” at her so she turned and fled into the hallway, holding her fingers up to her lips as she went.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sarah woke to screaming and sat up instantly. She had slept in armor since the wedding and she was glad for it as she grabbed her daggers and the door burst open revealing two well armed men. They wasted no time in coming at her and instinctively she fell into her fighting stance, dancing around their blades as if they weren’t there. Her heart beat fast, adrenaline flooding her system and making her want to laugh as she quickly cut them down.

Without another moment, she raced into the hall to see it was flooded with swordsman bearing different crests, fighting though some were vastly outnumbered. She didn’t waste time trying to figure out to who the men belonged to, simply cutting down anyone who attacked her in her path to get to her fellow Warden recruits rooms just down the hall. She reached Rhysand first, his door already open, splinters littering the entryway and several frozen men standing just outside his door.

A few men had managed to get close enough to actually enter the room, though all but one lie dying on the floor. The last man, a giant human in all rights, had managed to get close enough to the Dalish elf to corner him in the room, his staff having been knocked out of his hand as the man bore down on him.

The man had his greatsword raised, his heavy armor showing no easily visible open spot for her to stab. Quickly she rushed in, grabbed Rhys’s staff, and bashed the man on the head with it, causing him to stumble, his greatsword missing her fellow elf who dodged out of the way.

“Try wearing a helmet next time,” she said.

The man roared, turning to her, but the front of his armor had already taken damage from Mahariel’s spells, and she found a weak spot right over his heart and thrust the bottom end of the staff into the man’s heart with all the force she could muster, impaling him. As he fell she yanked it out of him, stumbling back a few steps less than gracefully.

Rhys stared at her before just shaking his head. She smiled, throwing his staff at him.

“You…you used my staff as a club,” he said disbelievingly.

“It worked. Maybe we should add a blade to the end of it,” Tabris suggested.

“You used my staff as a blunt weapon,” he said, smiling now.

Her smile widened as she said, “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get the thief.”

Getting to Daveth’s door was significantly easier than reaching Rhys’s, especially now that the mage was back at her side. She had never much thought about what it would be like to fight as a team, much less a team with someone throwing ice and fire past her head, but she found it added to her sense of exhilaration as she skillfully dodged both his attacks as well as the humans. She found that she seemed to be already anticipating where his spells would go. Maybe this team thing won’t be so hard.

The door to Daveth’s room was still somehow firmly locked tight, and Sarah began to beat the door when Mahariel walked up to it.

“Daveth, it’s us!” he called.

The thief opened the door, pulling on the last bit of his armor and smiling at them. “About time,” he said. “Where’s the Commander?”

“We haven’t seen him,” Mahariel said. “What’s going on here?”

“Those men have a different seal than the Highever crest,” Daveth said.

“You know this because you stole the seal,” Rhys said.

“Yes, I did. Would have brought a good price too. Pity Duncan made me give it back. Anyway, that Howe man we saw at dinner? I’m guessing that’s the other army. They were acting a bit shifty, anxious,” Daveth said.

“But the Arl and the Teyrn were old friends,” Mahariel said. “Why would they be attacking?”

“They’re vulnerable aren’t they?” the thief asked. “Good time to grab some power.”

“Fucking nobles,” Tabris said.

Daveth’s eyes widened before he chuckled. It was the first time he’d really heard the elf speak up much above a whisper since they’d left.

“We should try to get to Duncan. He may know a way out of here,” Mahariel said.

Tabris looked down the hall. It was littered with bodies and not just the Cousland’s guests, their guards, and the fallen Howe soldiers, but there were servants bodies as well who had been caught attending the guests’ late night needs. It struck her suddenly that the humans weren’t just after the nobles and their warriors, they were killing everyone who got in their way.

“The Cousland girl made this huge deal about how well they treat their servants,” Tabris said. “So they’re killing everyone. They don’t want any witnesses to what happened here. They want to make up whatever story they like.”

“Sucks,” Daveth said.

“I have to save them,” Tabris said, her eyes meeting Rhysand’s blue ones. “I can’t let them die, I have to save them. For Nelaros, I have to try.”

“Are you crazy?” Daveth asked. “If Howe’s men are here already, then the castle is overwhelmed. We’ll be lucky enough to get out alive as it is and you want us to take a detour? They’re probably already dead.”

“I don’t care!” Sarah said, her voice high pitched, panicked. “We’re Grey Wardens, right? This is what we do.”

“They fight darkspawn! They stay out of politics,” the thief said.

“Except when it suits them,” Tabris snapped, thinking of her own Conscription. “And we aren’t official Wardens yet. We’re closer to the servants quarters than the main hall anyway. They may know a way out.”

“I’ll help you,” Mahariel said.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. The two elves turned their attention to the pickpocket.

“What? No! I - this is crazy,” Daveth said. “I mean, the kid was cute and all but our lives are at stake and...Fine, I’m coming.”

The two elves could barely conceal a smile as the trio raced to the elven servants’ quarters.

xxxxxxx

Many halls were blocked, barricaded off, and Tabris was beginning to worry they’d never be able to reach their destination as they often had to reroute their direction. When she had begun to consider telling Mahariel and Daveth to turn back and save themselves, they rounded on a corner where several of Howe’s forces were attempting to break down a barricade that two Cousland guards had died defending. The three made quick work of the remaining forces, before calling to those within, asking for entrance.

It was a familiar elven face that opened the door to see them.

“Alexander,” Tabris said, her voice full of relief. “Are you alright? Is Eliza and Nia -”

“We are all safe here. There is another couple with us but they were badly injured before we got cornered off. We were trying to make our way to the larder through the servants’ corridors when we got trapped here,” he said.

“The larder? Were you wanting a midnight snack?” Daveth asked.

“No, my wife knows much of this castle, including an exit for the Cousland family should they be overrun. We were trying to make for that,” Alexander explained.

“We need to head there,” Sarah said. “If that’s the exit for the family, it will be one of the better secured areas and it’s probably our only hope to get out of here.”

“Agreed,” Mahariel said. Then to Alexander. “Are you all able to come with us?”

Alexander opened the door so that the trio entered. The small room was clearly used for storage. At the back two elves lie, covered in blood and clutching each other. Alexander explained the situation to the group.

“Go without us,” the male elf said with great difficulty. “Just go, Alex, get your family out of here.”

Alex looked at his wife, as if pleading with her but the female on the floor stood, wobbling, and made her way over to the man, grabbing his hand in hers. “Go brother. I won’t let you die for us.”

Alexander took the elven woman into his arms as her legs collapsed under her and gently carried her back to lie beside the male. Eliza put her hand on his shoulder, the other one grasping Nia’s.

The warden recruits then began to lead the way as Eliza instructed them. The servants' tunnels had far less of Howe’s men, but they were narrow and made Sarah extremely uncomfortable.

“We’re almost there. Just around that corner is the entrance to the main hall and from there -” Eliza began as they came around a corner but then suddenly cut off.

Sarah turned to see the elven woman fall to the ground, a large gash on her chest as three of Howe’s men bore down on the family. With an angry cry, Sarah maneuvered around her fellow recruits quickly enough to grab Nia and pull her back, simultaneously elbowing Alex to push him out of the way of a mace that would have hit him square on but caught him in the shoulder. 

Sarah felt someone grab the girl from her and she didn’t turn to see who it was that was taking her from the melee as she made short work of the man who had attacked Alexander. The third man then took his best shot at her, but was too slow to avoid a dagger in the throat for his efforts. Eliza’s murderer stared at her in shock before jumping back and running away, down the corridor he had come from.

Alexander then raced past her, one of the men’s short swords in his hand but Tabris chased after him, quickly catching up to him and yanking him to a stop.

“Where are you going?” she asked, angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“He killed her! He killed my wife,” he said, the heartbreak and anger in his voice temporarily threatening to consume Sarah as well.

“You’ll get yourself killed!” she said.

“She deserves justice! She threw herself in front of me. Eliza…” he said, but he dropped the sword and began crying. Tabris wrapped him in a quick hug before bending down and putting the weapon back in his hands.

“Take this, your daughter still needs you to protect her,” Tabris said.

Alexander’s face met hers and she felt a pang of emotion as she was once again reminded of how much he resembled his son. The only difference was his eyes were green, not the bright clear blue that Nelaros had, that his mother had, that Nia had.

“Come on,” she said.

“Daddy!” Nia cried, tears running down her face. “Mommy! Mommy won’t wake up.”

“Mommy’s with the Maker, honey,” Alexander said, his voice breaking. “She would want us to live though, so we have to go.”

“I can’t run anymore,” the little girl said sobbing.

“Come on, you have to try,” Alex said. “You love running. It’s just a little further. Try for daddy.”

Nia nodded and the group raced down the corridor and rounded the corner where they came to a door that had been busted down. A barricade had been erected in its place to stop men from easily entering the Hall. When the forces within saw them (the first living men that did not belong to Howe that they had seen since they had ventured into the servants’ quarters), a red haired man instructed the barrier be quickly removed and replaced.

“You three, you are the Warden recruits?” the man asked. “My name is Ser Gilmore. I last saw your Commander near the larder. You should head there quickly, the door is about to collapse.”

“Thank you,” Mahariel said.

The group began to exit the hall quickly when the heavy main door burst open, finally giving way. They began to ran but Nia screamed, falling, and struggling to get up. Sarah turned to see Alexander try to pick her up with his wounded arm and wasted no time grabbing the little girl, and swinging her onto her back. Nia clutched her tightly, her legs wrapped around Tabris’s waist, and her arms around her neck. Without speaking, Daveth and Mahariel put their arms under Alexander’s and raced ahead even quicker, Sarah following close behind.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Rachel and her mother ran into the larder to find her father lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. 

“There you are. But where’s Oriana and our grandson?” Bryce said with pain evident in his voice. 

The teryn was holding his hands over his abdomen. Rachel was becoming more and more worried for his safety with every moment. She had already lost her sister-in-law and her nephew and she was sure there was no possible way that Gil would survive Howe’s men once they broke through the door; she couldn’t stand the thought of losing her father as well.

“Oh, Bryce, those monsters killed them both,” Eleanor said running to kneel by her husband. “What happened to you? How did you get injured?”

“Howe’s men came out of nowhere and attacked. I was only able to escape because of Duncan. He should be coming back soon. He went to look for his recruits. The other wardens he had with him had gone into the town for the night so they are already safe away from the castle . Someone must find Fergus and tell him what happened. He can use our troops to reclaim the castle and get revenge on Howe.”

“But surely you’re coming with us Father,” Rachel said starting to tear up again.

“I’m afraid we both know that’s not true, darling,” he said coughing.

“No, we’ll get you out. The passage is right here. Then we can find someone to heal you,” Eleanor placed her hands over his.

“That would be impossible. The teyrn has lost too much blood. His injuries are too severe and it will be hard enough sneaking us out of the castle. Howe’s men have it surrounded,” Duncan said entering the room.

“Duncan, you must get my wife and daughter to safety. You’re the only one who I can trust to help them,” Bryce pleaded.

“I will, your lordship. But I fear I must do so under my own conditions. I came here to find another recruit and I must leave with one. I have already told you that your daughter would be an excellent candidate. I will make sure she and your wife make it safely to Ostagar but once there the darkspawn threat demands that she join the wardens.”

“I agree,” the teyrn’s voice was starting to sound fainter.

“Wait.. you want me to join you?” Rachel asked shocked. 

She’d thought the idea sounded interesting earlier but she’d never expected it to actually happen. She had always assumed she’d end up married to a nobleman with an estate to run and children to care for even if she would have preferred a life full of travel and adventure. She hadn’t wanted to get that at the cost of her family’s lives though. 

“But I want to get revenge on Howe. He destroyed my family and he must pay for his actions,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

“I cannot guarantee that will happen. I can, however, promise that when we reach Ostagar we will find your brother and we will tell him and the King about the events that have happened here,” Duncan was looking at her.

Rachel looked to her father for reassurance and at his slight nod she grew resolved, “Very well then. I will join your order.”

Just then the recruits burst into the larder. Sarah ran in first with a frightened looking Nia clinging to her back. Rhys and Daveth were slower to enter as they were supporting an injured Alexander between them. Eleanor had reached for her bow the second she heard a noise at the door and she had an arrow aimed steadily at Rhys’s head.

“We’re here. Please don’t shoot,” Rhys said.

“With a few extras for the party,” Daveth joked.

Eleanor lowered her bow and moved back to her husband's side.

“What happened? Where have you all been? I went back to find you and you were gone,” Duncan asked.

“We had a daring rescue to perform,” Daveth said before Rhys or Sarah could give an answer.

Rachel suddenly focused on Rhys. “Wait, you’re a mage. You can heal my father, can’t you?” she said with hope in her voice. 

However, she knew instantly that Rhys wouldn’t be able to help. His eyes filled with guilt and he shook his head no.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve never been good at healing magic. I can’t heal something this severe. I’m not even sure that a fully trained healer would be able to at this point,” his voice was full of sorrow.

“We need to go now. Otherwise we might not all make it out,” Duncan said taking control of the situation.

“You can all use the secret passage. I’m staying here with my husband,” Eleanor said while pulling the Shield of Highever off her back. She passed it to Rachel who numbly reached to take it.

“What do you mean? You have to come with us,” Rachel pleaded. “I’ve lost everyone else. I can’t lose you too. I still need you.”

“No, my dear, you are strong enough to survive this without me. My place is with your father. I’m sorry.”

Rachel’s tears were falling so hard now that it was becoming hard for her to see. She just wanted this entire day to have been a bad dream. She didn’t want to accept that this was her reality now. The others had started to walk towards the hidden passage when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She assumed that it was Rhys since he was the friendliest and most empathetic of the group but when she turned she saw that Sarah was looking at her with understanding. Her gesture gave Rachel the strength to stand.

“Goodbye Mother. Goodbye Father. I love you both so much,” she said her voice shaking.

“We love you too. More than you’ll ever know. We’re so proud of you,” her father said quietly. 

She could tell his strength was fading fast and that knowledge more than anything else forced her to turn toward the passage and walk into it. She didn’t want to witness her father’s death. As long as she didn’t see it happen she could picture him alive and well. She would go to Ostagar, become a Grey Warden, and most importantly find Fergus. With that thought she walked into the tunnel following Duncan and the others away from her old life and towards her new one.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	4. Valuable

It had taken some time for the group to escape the chaos that had been Highever. Before going back into town, Duncan had made sure to pull his first three recruits aside, staring them down. Even Daveth, who was a good two inches taller than the Warden Commander.

Mahariel kept his face smooth, though he knew the ensuing speech was likely to be unpleasant. He glanced at his fellows. Daveth was moving in place, the thief almost always in motion, a big grin on his face that said he also knew what was coming. When he caught Rhys’s gaze he winked and nodded at him, his smile widening. Tabris’s face was cold and hard, her brows slightly furrowed in a defiant manner, her chin tilted slightly upward as she stared right back at the Warden.

“What were the three of you thinking?” Duncan said. “You are Warden recruits and under my command. When the events broke out at the Cousland estate, you should have sought me out immediately.”

“You mean when the nobles started slaughtering everyone? Again,” Tabris said.

Duncan had just enough time to fix her with a disapproving look before Daveth cut in. “With all due respect, you weren’t in your room Dunc.” The Commander made a disapproving grunt. “Duncan. Off having some fun of your own with the Teyrn?”

Mahariel couldn’t help but feel the Warden must have caught the double meaning to the pickpocket’s words and decided to speak up himself before his fellows decided to continue to help.

“I’m sorry we didn’t search you out immediately, but we wouldn’t have known where to find you if we had. If we hadn’t found Eliza and her family we never would have known to make for the larder,” Rhys said, his voice calm, reasonable.

Duncan focused his dark eyes on him, seeming to say he could see right through Mahariel’s attempts at diplomacy. 

“And what of the Alienage? Did you have trouble seeking me out there for guidance?” Duncan said.

Mahariel said nothing, pressing his lips together. He knew that the Commander disapproved of his actions, and he felt guilty to have disappointed him, but he would not apologize for doing what he felt was right. It had been his duty to help and if he could go back, even knowing that his help had been unnecessary, he would have made the same choice. 

“You three are to be Grey Wardens in a short while. The Wardens' aim is to fight Darkspawn, to stop Blights. Our duty is to all of Thedas and because of that we must not get involved politically in any one nation. The Wardens were forced to leave Ferelden for that some time ago, and there are many who have not forgotten. 

“King Maric allowed us back into this nation, and his son, King Cailan, trusts our Order. He trusts that all our actions be aimed specifically toward the goal of keeping his country safe from darkspawn. A Blight has come to this land and our presence here is crucial. The Wardens cannot afford to be sidetracked or dragged into political matters.

“And you are my recruits. You will be my Wardens after you have gone through the Joining. This is an Order, you have rules to follow but you also must learn to follow my commands.

“We are going to the Circle next. I shall enter alone as there are strict rules about such matters. But I expect the three of you to follow my orders and be guided by the Warden’s duty, not just your own sense of right and wrong,” Duncan said.

He stared at the three recruits for some time, challenging them to speak. His gaze fell on Mahariel last and Rhys felt as though he stared at him far longer than the others.

“I am going into town to gather supplies. I expect you three to see to Alexander’s wounds and stay at camp,” Duncan said.

Without another word, Duncan left, making for Highever.

“Yes ser!” Daveth said with false enthusiasm when the Commander was out of earshot. He grinned at Rhys. “He’s a hardass but he knew what he signed up for. Bet he wasn’t always so straight and narrow.”

Daveth then went back to the fire that had been set up and grabbed a piece of meat that had been cooking there. Tabris stood silently, her body stiff beside him.

“You ok?” Mahariel asked.

For a moment Sarah still said nothing, seemingly too irritated to speak. “No.”

Mahariel got the sense that there was much left unsaid after that sentence but he wasn’t sure how to breach the subject with her. 

“You don’t approve of Duncan’s methods,” Rhys said, trying to lead her to opening up.

The elf laughed harshly. “You mean only helping people when it suits our needs? No harm came from helping Alexander’s family. We saved two lives, there was nothing political about it. He gave us no orders about what to do if a bunch of soldiers attacked us in the night and looking for him didn’t mean we’d find him.

“Humans and politics,” Sarah said, disgusted. “It’s political to help elves who have had crimes committed against them but not to conscript one after she’s murdered an Arl’s son? It’s not political to coerce a dying man, a nobleman no less, into giving his only daughter to the Wardens to save her life? 

“I’m sure that will go over well with the other nobles when they hear about it. If what I heard is correct at the castle, her family is the second most powerful in Ferelden. She’s probably on a first name basis with the king. And clearly not all nobles support the Wardens, if I didn’t misinterpret that Howe at dinner when he was thinking about how he was going to slaughter everyone in a couple of hours. There are probably more like him that haven’t lost all credibility by murdering their teyrn.”

Mahariel had to admit that Tabris had a point. Duncan was clearly willing to take risks politically when he thought it would favor the Wardens. He could also understand her anger over being reprimanded for trying to do what was right by her own morals, especially when things had worked out well enough. But Duncan was their leader and Rhys knew he was simply attempting to establish order with his new recruits.

“He would have let all four of us die if he didn’t think we’d be valuable to him. It’s hard to feel grateful,” she said, as if sensing Rhys’s thoughts. Without looking at him she said, “You should go bandage Alex up, Rhysand.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Camp had been set up silently when the Warden Commander had finally decided they had reached safety. He had grabbed his recruits, the tension palpable, but Rachel found herself unable to hold curiosity about it for long. She felt tired, numb. Alexander and Nia had sat down, his good arm draped around her and she felt as though she should go to them, try to comfort them. They were her people and they were going through loss just as she was.

But she couldn’t muster the will to go talk to them. She couldn’t muster the will to do much of anything, except sit quietly near the fire. She had cried all the way through the tunnel after leaving her parents but she had finally ran out of tears. 

She had lost track of how long she had been sitting by herself when Rhys came over and sat near her, close enough to show he was there but not too close to make her feel pressured by his presence. 

“I realize you might not be ready or might not feel comfortable talking to me since I’m a stranger to you, but I wanted to let you know that I am willing to talk or even just listen if that’s what you need,” Rhys said quietly.

He waited a moment and when Rachel didn’t respond he began to stand. Without even really thinking about it Rachel reached and laid a hand on his arm. 

“Wait,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will you just sit here for awhile? I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Of course. Whatever you need,” Rhys settled back down beside her.


	5. Whatever I Can

Mithian Surana slowly woke up feeling content. She was wrapped in the arms of one of the mages, Matthew, and she felt warm and comfortable. She snuggled closer to him and was planning on going back to sleep for a little longer when suddenly she realized what day it was. Once the thought popped into her head she couldn’t escape the knowledge of her Harrowing. 

She groaned knowing that no matter how hard she tried she would never be able to fall back asleep now, no matter how tempting the prospect and her companion were. She carefully maneuvered herself out of Matthew’s embrace and stood, starting to pull her clothes back on. He shifted reaching toward the place where she had lain but didn’t wake up.

Mithian looked around Matthew’s room trying to find her lost shoe before spying it near the dresser. She slipped it on and then hurried to get ready for the day in front of the small circular mirror hanging on the wall. Her long black hair was hanging loose and she couldn’t find anything to tie it into her customary bun with, so she just brushed it out. Once she finished that she stared into the reflection of her tilted grey eyes. She glanced briefly at the scar along her cheekbone, lips twisting, before she looked back into her own gaze. She saw the fear and nerves in her expression and knew that anyone who saw her right now would instantly be able to tell her true feelings. 

It’s all going to be fine. You’ll be alright. You’ve practiced and Irving wouldn’t test you without being sure you can make it through. And really what’s the worst that can happen? Just becoming an abomination and then being run through with a Templar’s sword. That’s a piece of cake, Mithian thought to herself. 

Matthew began to stir behind Mithian and she hurried to replace the look of fear with one of her usual confidence. She thought she had achieved just that when Matthew wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Good morning,” he said cheerily leaning down to give her a quick kiss. 

“Morning. Last night was fantastic, but I have to leave. After all I have a Harrowing to pass,” Mithian smiled at him.

With that she danced out of his grasp leaving the room without another word. She could hear his warm laugh following her through the hall.

She walked down the hallway occasionally stopping to chat or flirt with people as she passed them. Some people wished her luck on her test and she made sure that she kept up her confident act and brushed them off like the Harrowing was nothing, inside she was still worried though.

When Mithian came to the doorway Cullen usually guarded she smiled. She walked towards him making sure to sway her hips more than normal and felt gratified when she saw Cullen turn to look at her. 

“Hello, Cullen. It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Mithian said.

The young templar started visibly before quickly falling back into the stance he was trained to keep when guarding mage charges.

“I - er - hello,” he said, his voice breaking slightly mid-syllable.

Mithian smiled at Cullen’s stammering. She decided that she wanted to push his boundaries a bit farther than normal, wanting a distraction from her upcoming test.

“So what are your plans for the day? More standing around watching everyone? That must get so boring,” she placed her hand on his own where it rested on top of his holstered sword.

Cullen’s armored back made a clanking noise as he fell back against the wall, his back straight and his entire posture leaning away from her as his cheeks became beet red. Mithian smiled at him, her eyes never leaving his as she waited to see what he would say.

“I - no - I have - other duties - don’t you have a - I - um - I think - please don’t touch my sword,” he said, his face somehow becoming more red as his eyes widened. “I mean - Maker...”

Mithian took a small step bringing herself closer to him. She smiled innocently up at him and batted her eyelashes. 

“Don’t touch your sword? Why not? It’s so big and powerful,” she rubbed her fingers across his knuckles.

“That’s - that’s enough,” he said, almost sounding like a question. He grabbed her hands gently, pressing them against her chest, even as his own seemed to be shaking. “You really can’t - we - I...my sword is for the Order. It isn’t…” 

Cullen seemed to struggle with his words, his face scrunched up as if confused and pained, likely trying to avoid furthering the innuendo. Mithian smiled more, her head tilting as she looked into his eyes. 

“I can’t allow you to...I really...I think I’m due somewhere else right now. Excuse me,” Cullen said brusquely. 

Gently he pressed past Mithian, his pace steady and sure for several feet before he seemed to take off almost at a run. Mithian smirked to herself. She loved the effect a few well placed words or touches had on him. It was just so easy to get a rise from him. 

She figured by now Irving and the Templars would all be gathered for her test and as much as she wanted to, she knew that stalling wouldn’t help in the long run so she headed up the stairs to the top floor where the Harrowing would be held. She walked into the room to find Irving standing near the door waiting for her. He took one look at her before taking her hands in his, squeezing them gently. Mithian squeezed back, both annoyed and touched that Irving could see through her so easily.

“You’ll be fine, Mithian. I have faith in you and your abilities. Besides mages with less skill than you have gone on to pass the Harrowing. You just need to trust yourself,” Irving told her gently before Knight-Commander Greagoir called for her to approach.

As she was walking to the center of the room she saw Cullen slip in the door. His face was still a bit red and she noticed that he was avoiding looking at her. Strangely, she felt more at ease with him there. 

“Now that we’re all here we can begin. Today you will undergo your Harrowing. If you successfully pass you will become a full mage. However, if you fail you will be dealt with accordingly,” Greagoir said. 

He went on to speak about the importance of the ritual and how magic was a gift and that it shouldn’t be treated lightly. Mithian wasn’t paying complete attention though. She wished he would just stop talking and let her begin the test so she could get it over with. The anticipation was really starting to get to her as one of her hands toyed nervously with some loose strands of her hair.

Finally, Greagoir seemed done with his speech and gestured to a podium full of lyrium in the center of the room. Mithian moved towards it and with one last breath to steady herself reached for it. She saw a blinding light and the next thing she knew she was in the Fade.

xxxxxxxx

Mithian had emerged into a bleak landscape that she’d spent Andraste knew how long exploring. The first thing she’d noticed in the place had been a “mouse.” She’d told the creature to leave her be but it had insisted on following her as she traveled. She’d encountered several spirits and what she was fairly certain was a sloth demon that had been sleeping in the form of a bear. The most sinister thing it had done though had been to make her answer riddles. She was starting to get a little bored honestly when she came upon a creature she was absolutely sure was a demon.

It resembled a woman except it was pink in color and it had large horns sticking out of its head. Mithian also couldn’t help but notice that the demon’s clothing left virtually nothing to her imagination.

“So you’re the one that’s come to tempt me into naughty behavior and evilness,” Mithian said, moving to stand closer to it. “And here I thought that desire demons were actually meant to be desirable.”

“You don’t find me desirable?” the demon purred, running one delicate finger along her collarbone slowly, seductively. 

It reminded Mithian of the chantry sister she had bedded three nights ago. She had been the proper demure sister in public but behind closed doors she was surprisingly physical.

“Why would I? I prefer my women without horns. Not to mention I can get plenty of attention without resorting to selling my soul to a demon. So if we’re done here I’ll just be on my way,” Mithian said. 

Mithian started backing away making sure to never take her eyes off the demon.

“Don’t leave so soon,” Desire pouted and Surana couldn’t help but stop, somewhat amused by its antics. “I have much more to offer than my body, though I can see you are more interested in it than you let on.” 

At this Desire moved her hand from her collarbone, to run her hand slowly over her hip bones. “But I would not dream of suggesting that a beautiful elf such as yourself would ever have want of a partner. No, that isn’t what I offer you.”

Mithian knew she should just back away but she couldn’t help a growing sense of curiosity at the demon’s words. 

“Well then what is it you offer me? Gold? Eternal youth? I guarantee you there isn’t anything you can offer me that I would actually want. Well unless you can somehow create twenty more Cullen’s who all have the singular desire to worship me, but somehow I think that’s beyond even you,” Mithian smirked.

The demon laughed, her chuckle rich and full. Her violet eyes never left Mithian’s as her smile widened, “For you, my dear, that could be arranged. But I think there is yet one thing you desire even more.”

“Oh, for the love of the Maker, will you just get to the point already. You’re just wasting my time,” Mithian was starting to get nervous. 

She began to twist her hair around her fingers. Surely the demon couldn’t know her deepest, darkest desire.

“Time is precious,” Desire said, her voice becoming even lower, more seductive. Mithian could feel the pull of her words, already entrancing. “And you have lost so much of it. Tell me, do you still store the blanket you made her under your pillow?”

Mithian began to panic, but she knew she couldn’t let the demon realize it or else she would be lost to her. 

Mithian scoffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, if that’s the best you can do I’ll just leave. I always thought desire demons were supposed to be more entrancing than this.”

The elven mage turned from Desire who stopped her with one phrase, “She has your eyes.” 

Mithian breathed out quickly, jaw tensing. She might as well drop the act. It was clear the demon knew what she was talking about and wouldn’t be fooled. 

“So now you can read my mind? You can’t have actually seen her. You’re stronger than you look if you can see into my mind. I’ll give you credit for that.” 

Desire smiled with false innocence, pursing her lips. 

“I would love to take that as a compliment, Mithian,” the demon said, using her name for the first time. “No, I owe this to another sadly, a lonely chantry initiate and the demon who resides within her. We’ve been watching her together, you see. So young with so much promise. Just like you.”

Mithian’s heart began to pound inside her chest. She couldn’t stand the thought that demons were keeping an eye on her. She had thought the girl would be safe in the Chantry. 

“So what are you offering? You’ll let me see her? What would be the point if afterwards you got to take control of my body? The happiness I felt would only be fleeting and then I would be ruined forever. I don’t want that. I actually quite enjoy my life,” Mithian put a hand on her slim hip. 

“Do not be so hasty to turn away my deal, my dear. I understand a partnership between us would be premature,” Desire said, her hands going lower but Mithian’s eyes refused to leave the demon’s, staring her down confidently. “I want nothing in exchange for what I offer. Your good opinion would be more than enough for me to tell you the child’s location.”

It would be so easy to just give in and accept the demon’s terms. Mithian was a breath away from agreeing but then her mind conjured an image of Irving’s face. And then she thought of him. That was enough to shock her out of the stupor that Desire had lulled her into with her offer.

“No, I won’t accept any offers from you. I know how demons lie and twist words to get what they want. Now I really will be leaving. If you try to stop me again I swear I will kill you,” Mithian said, raising her chin.

“There are always...more impressionable minds I can touch,” Desire said, her edges beginning to blur to indicate that she was seconds from leaving this area of the fade.

Mithian acted without fully thinking. She wouldn’t let any demon hurt the girl. Not when she could stop it. She hurled a freezing spell at Desire, stopping her from fading any further. 

“I’d like to see you touch someone now,” Mithian said before sending a ball of dirt flying towards Desire. 

The force of the spell caused the ice and the demon encased in it to shatter. Mithian felt an instant sense of relief and her heart finally slowed to its normal pace. 

“Well done,” Mouse said. 

The creature was in a human form now and Mithian looked him over with curious eyes. She had completely forgotten about his presence during her encounter with Desire. 

Mouse continued, “I knew you could do it. Someone like you would never be able to fall for so cheap a ploy.”

“Aww thank you. Your faith in me is so meaningful. Honestly, I am truly touched,” Mithian said sarcastically.

“You jest, but I knew you were different. That’s why I went with you, why I helped with Sloth.”

“I’m sure I would have managed just fine with that bear on my own. This whole Harrowing has been way less of a challenge than everyone was making it out to be,” Mithian arched a brow. 

“For mages such as yourself,” Mouse agreed. “But we can’t all be as great as you. What about the rest of us? They make us do this and damn the consequences. Now I’m stuck here forever. Unless...unless you could help me?”

“Why the hell would I want to do that? Desire just offered me my greatest wish in life and I turned her down. There’s literally nothing you can do for me that I would want or accept,” Mithian said, placing her hand on her hip.

“I am no simple demon! I’m like you,” the man insisted.

“You are nothing like me. You’re a pitiful excuse for a mage. You couldn’t even pass your Harrowing. I’m so much better than you, in every single way,” Mithian said laughing in his face.

Mouse’s eyes lit up, “Exactly! That’s why you need to help me. I just want to get back, to find a way to get out of this place. Surely someone as powerful as yourself could afford to extend a tiny effort to help me.”

“I see what you’re doing. You think if you compliment me and tell me how powerful I am you can play on my emotions and make me think that helping you will show exactly how powerful I am,” Mithian said.

She shook her head, eyes intent on the creature.

“But you are failing to realize that I don’t care about you. I owe you no loyalty and I don’t need a pathetic creature such as you to tell me how amazing I am. I don’t go through an entire day without complimenting myself at least three times, so your poor attempts at flattery are useless. Now are we done here? I’d really like to leave this depressing place,” Mithian said, tossing some hair behind her shoulder.

Mouse snorted once, and then again. Soon he was laughing, his whole body shaking as his voice grew deeper. 

“You think you are invulnerable to us,” he said, his body growing, morphing. 

His skin became hard and then scaly, seeming to ooze purple fluids as he loomed over her. 

His voice was deeper, louder as he continued. “But you Mithian Surana are full of Desire, and Pride even more so. Today you turn me down, but there will come a day when you will desperately need me and I will covet your hubris.”

The Pride demon now stood over her, at least three times Mithian’s height. 

“Today is not that day,” Mithian said. The demon began to laugh and she woke up with the sound of it still ringing in her ears. 

When she woke up she was lying in her old bed. Her head was throbbing and she groaned placing a hand on her forehead before opening her eyes and moving to sit up. She saw Finn sitting on a stool reading a book. He glanced up, offering her a small smile before looking back at the pages in front of him. 

“Did your head hurt this much after you finished your Harrowing or is it just me?” Mithian winced.

“Hmm?” Finn asked, and Mithian had to repeat herself, wondering if he could appear any less interested in her biggest accomplishment as a mage. “Oh, uh, no. But I didn’t go to my Harrowing hung over on smuggled Aggregio.”

“I wasn’t drunk! I was just a little tipsy last night. I felt perfectly fine this morning. Now would you please cast a healing spell so my head will stop trying to burst open?” Mithian pouted at him.

Finn still didn’t look up from his book but commented as though on the weather outside (they never experienced), “Seems like a waste of mana. Your head won’t actually burst.” Mithian groaned and her friend finally managed to lower the book and look at her. “Ok, fine, but you really ought to learn the spell yourself.”

“What’s the point of that when I have my dear friend, Florian, to help heal me whenever I need him to?” Mithian smiled at him innocently.

Finn sighed lightly, no longer able to be put off by Mithian’s sense of humor as he once had. Most in the tower saw it as an improvement but Surana missed the days when everything she’d said had been able to easily trigger a reaction from the mage.

He set his book down in his lap, raising his hands and sent a spell toward her expertly, not needing to be as near to her as many other mages did when healing. Though Finn was mostly known for his extensive knowledge of ancient magics and forgotten languages, he was also a decent healer. 

“Better?” he asked when he had finished.

“Yes. Much better thank you,” Mithian said and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best. Well, not better than me, but you’re still pretty fantastic.”

Finn let out a breath of indignation as his cheeks became pink. “Really Mithian? I came all the way down here and sat with a bunch of drooling baby Apprentices to see you and - just…” Finn sighed, standing up, his cheeks even redder. “Irving wants to see you. And Matthew. And a lovely Chantry girl named Naomi whom I will not even ask about. And I have been told to request that you ‘please refrain from touching Cullen’s sword.’ Whatever that means.”

“I can tell you what I wish it meant but I think that would only make you blush even harder,” Mithian smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. 

“You are hardly subtle about what you want it to mean, I just found it hard to imagine that such a request need be made,” Finn said, making sure to straighten his robes perfectly as the flush from his cheeks faded. “He’s barely more than a recruit, Surana, and he doesn’t glare at me when I request access to the protected section of our library’s books. Please try not to frighten him off the way you did with Alan.”

“Oh, fine, but only because you are the one asking and I know how precious your books are to you,” Mithian pouted. “But I won’t stop flirting with him. It’s too much fun. I’ll just make sure not to push him too far again. But really you should have seen his face earlier. It was beautiful. The poor man literally ran away to get away from me.”

“He is hardly the first,” Finn said, leaving the room without another word.

Mithian went to the shared bathroom and quickly pulled her hair into a bun before setting off to hunt down Irving and the others. She decided to save Irving for last and instead went to find Matthew. She knew that he at least wouldn’t feel the need to flee from her. 

After setting up a nighttime rendezvous with Matthew and Noami, Mithian headed towards Irving’s office. Cullen was back at his post and Mithian approached him with a smile. He spotted her instantly, a blush already creeping onto his cheeks.

“Hello again Cullen. It has been brought to my attention that you don’t want me to touch your sword? I can assure you that it won’t happen again, unless you tell me I’m allowed to,” Mithian looked at him with her grey eyes.

“I- uh - yes. Please don’t.”

“Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to touch anything else,” she said the perfect picture of innocence.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice gentle. 

“Why not?” Mithian said seriously for once.

“Just please. I can’t be - I’m not...I think highly of you and...just not - I want to do my duty,” he said with a surprising earnestness. “I just - don’t want things to get complicated? I...oh Maker.”

Mithian was taken aback by his reaction. Sure it was fun to flirt with him and cause him to blush but things had taken a more serious tone than she was used to. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say to him. 

Her brow was furrowed, “You can still do your duty and talk to me right?”

“Talk?” he said, laughing nervously. “Sort of,” he said with a self deprecating smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “But - but that’s it. I um, hope that’s ok?”

“Well it’s not what I’d prefer, but I don’t want to chase you away. I’d rather you stay in my life. Especially now that I’m a full mage and not just a lowly apprentice.”

“You were never lowly,” he said. Then he blinked, looking down and then back at her, his face containing far less tension than it had before. “I uh - I was the one responsible for - for stopping you if you failed your Harrowing. It - I - I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

Mithian was shocked by this new information. She had assumed that Greagoir or one of the other higher ranking templars would be the one to strike her down if she had failed. She had never thought that Cullen would have been the one to end her life. 

“Well in that case I’m extra glad that I passed to spare you the horror of having to do it,” Mithian said. 

“Me too,” he said. “I think Irving wants to see you. But uh...Miss Surana?”

“Yes?” 

“Thank you,” he said. “For understanding and not uh...for talking to me.”

“It’s no problem….so am I allowed to flirt with you on special occasions? Like maybe on my birthday? Or am I completely cut off?” Mithian couldn’t resist adding.

Cullen coughed, rubbing his neck as a small blush crept its way onto his cheeks once more. “I - uh - I’d rather - um - er?” He coughed and recomposed himself somewhat. “Maybe?” 

“You’re a good man Cullen,” Mithian said and gently brushed a kiss across his cheekbone.

Cullen blushed bright red but didn’t pull away from her. Mithian watched him carefully for a reaction, his eyes wide and unblinking for several minutes before he finally seemed to take a breath. He smiled at her gently and then rubbed his neck again and nodded her through the hall entryway. 

Mithian walked through feeling sort of dazed. She had been so careful for the last few years to make sure that no one else would ever get close enough to her to cause her pain again and Cullen had just broken through her defenses. She didn’t quite know what to do about him now. Although she had meant it when she had told him she wanted him to stay in her life. 

She continued walking through the halls into the library deep in thought when suddenly she heard whispering coming from behind one of the bookshelves. Normally she would have just passed by but she was certain she had heard Amell’s name and that peaked her curiosity. So she quietly moved closer picking up a book as a cover in case anyone noticed her lurking.

“You should ask him,” a female whisperer insisted urgently. Between the gaps in the bookshelves Surana thought she could make out chantry robes.

“I just - I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” the male whisperer replied. 

This voice she recognized: Jowan, Amell’s best friend. They had known each other for as long as they had both been in the Circle. Mithian’s brows furrowed as she angled her head closer, trying to listen in on what exactly he was getting up to. 

“Don’t you trust him?” the sister whispered.

“Of course I do,” Jowan said sincerely. “But he’s my best friend, Lily.”

“Exactly! Why won’t you ask him? He’d want to help you and we don’t have a lot of time,” Lily said.

“What will happen to him if I ask him? He’s got a life here, I can’t do that to him.”

“So you’d die or be made Tranquil? Jowan!” she said, her voice getting frustrated before she took a breath so deep Mithian could hear it from her hiding place. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I - yes, of course Lily,” Jowan said. “But -”

“And Amell cares about you almost as much as I do. He’d do whatever it took to make sure you were safe. Wouldn’t you do the same for him?”

“It’s not like I could ever help him with anything.”

Surana had to repress a snort as she continued to listen in.

“But you would though?”

“Yes, I guess. But they have his phylactery. If he left they’d always track him and if he stayed - helping a suspected blood mage escape - they could make him Tranquil for that,” Jowan said, his voice sounding scared.

“They can’t, he’s already went through his Harrowing which is why we need him. It takes a mage who's been through his or her Harrowing and a non-mage to open the door to the phylactery chambers.”

“Lily -” Jowan said, his voice taking on that whine. “You know they don’t always follow that rule. And what if they kill him instead?”

“For helping a friend? I don’t think the Commander would be so cruel. Gideon will be fine. Talk to him. Soon,” Lily said. 

Mithian heard footsteps coming toward her and quickly hid herself at the end of the aisle, moving back behind it when the sister had left the room. 

Mithian knew that she had to help keep Amell out of this situation if at all possible. She couldn’t allow him to get in trouble for something that he should have no part in. Even Jowan had seemed hesitant to drag him into it and everyone knew that Jowan didn’t always have the best ideas. 

She made it to Irving’s office to find him seated at his desk.

“Come in, my child, I’ve been waiting for you. I wanted to give you these items. It’s a tradition when a mage completes their Harrowing,” Irving said gesturing to a pile on the table near his desk. 

Mithian glanced over them quickly, picking up the small silver ring and slipping it on to her finger. She left the new robes and staff sitting where they were so she could tell Irving what she had overheard.

“Thank you. But there’s something important I need to discuss with you. On the way here I overheard something and I think you should know about it,” Mithian told him. 

“Whatever it is you know you can tell me,” Irving said seriously.

“I heard Jowan and one of the chantry sisters, Lily, he called her, talking about escaping from the Tower. It seems that they are lovers and they think Jowan is going to be made tranquil so they want to leave before that can happen,” Mithian said. 

“This is very serious indeed.”

“That’s not all,” Mithian said sounding nervous. “Lily talked Jowan into asking Amell to help them. They think Amell can be persuaded to break into the phylactery chamber with them, since he’s Jowan’s best friend. I know Amell hates me but I can’t let him get in trouble for this. You need to stop them before they can talk him into helping.” 

Irving stared at her for a moment clearly pondering something. 

Finally he said, “I’m afraid I can’t stop them. I must ask you to do something for me. I know you won’t like it but it will be better in the long run. I need you to convince Jowan to let you help him so we can catch him and this Sister Lily in the act. Knight-Commander Greagoir would be more likely to take the word of a sister than a mage, even if that mage is me.” 

Mithian opened her mouth to protest but Irving cut her off, “I know what you’re thinking and I promise that if you do this I can protect both you and Mr. Amell and if all goes well, he need never be involved.”

“Can you guarantee that even if things don’t go well that he will be fine?” Mithian said.

“I promise I will do whatever I can to keep him out of trouble,” Irving told her.

Mithian took a few deep breaths and then shook her head.

“Well then, I guess I’d better go speak to Jowan,” Mithian said grabbing her new robes and staff and walking back down the corridor.


	6. Tranquility

Gideon swiped the blonde hair out of his face as he turned and left the Warden Commander, his heart beating a little harder at the prospect of leaving the tower. Irving had obviously devised the chance meeting and hopefully that meant he was recommending him as the next Warden. It had been a disappointing surprise not to be chosen to go to Ostagar but perhaps this had been the First Enchanter’s plan all along? 

Not that he desired to be a Warden. It was just another form of forced service, but at least there wouldn’t be the threat of templars cutting him down or tranquility being held over their heads or any number of other grievances he had. Not that he ever let on about any. To do so would be foolish.

He hadn’t gotten far from Duncan’s quarters when he saw Jowan’s familiar form come at him quickly. Without speaking, his friend grabbed his arm and led him to a more secluded location before speaking with him.

“Gideon,” he said, his voice sounding desperate, pleading.

Amell frowned. Jowan had been sparse lately, likely due to his first real romantic interest, the Chantry sister Lily. Gideon wasn’t a huge fan of the relationship for multiple reasons but it had been the first time his best friend had seemed so happy and his first relationship, so he hadn’t spoken up on the matter, hoping it would turn out to be nothing serious. Jowan had always supported him and Gideon felt he could do no less.

“Jowan, what’s the matter?” Amell asked, being sure to keep his voice quiet but complacent. A boring tone that passersby would drown out.

Jowan took a deep breath and then tried to sound normal. “You know that I’ve been seeing Lily right?”

“I think you’ve told me that one or a million times.”

Jowan started to smile but stopped himself. “And you’ve heard the rumors about me right? Because I’ve been sneaking off with her and because of when you know who -”

“Yeah,” Gideon said stopping him before Jowan could rehash the past. Then with sadness, “I heard.”

“They’re going to make me Tranquil. It’s already been approved,” Jowan said.

The air left Gideon’s chest and he shut his eyes. The small irrational part of him wanted to believe that what Jowan said wasn’t possible. He had heard wrong, or Lily had if she had been the source. They wouldn’t make him Tranquil, Jowan was overreacting, everything would be fine.

When he opened his eyes he said, “What do we do?”

Jowan looked at him, his eyes wide with relief and a hint of disbelief, his lips seeming to quaver. “Gideon, I don’t want to ask -”

“You don’t have to,” Amell said.

“That Grey Warden, he could recruit you and -”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get you out of here. I assume that means breaking into your phylactery chamber, that will give you the best chance of not being tracked.”

“What about you? Your phylactery is in Denerim and if you stayed here they’d kill you or make you Tranquil for helping me,” Jowan said.

“I escape with you, we head separate ways on the outside. If I don’t make it that far, I hope the Warden really does plan on recruiting me and doesn’t change his mind,” Amell said.

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Gideon didn’t say anything.

“Gideon, I can’t -”

“You are my best friend, Jowan. How do we get into the phylactery chamber?”

“Gideon, stop,” Jowan said. “Lily wanted me to ask you for help but I can’t let you do this. I know you’re unhappy but I can’t just let you…”

Gideon sighed, tempted to roll his eyes. “I don’t want to die, Jowan, not any more than you do. Tranquility is a fate worse than death, and I could never let that happen to you.”

Jowan opened his mouth when he shut it abruptly, his eyes widening in horror at something behind him. Amell felt his heart begin to race, knowing by the look on his friend’s face that they were caught before they could ever form a plan. Gideon turned around slowly.

Standing with her hip jutted to the left and a small wand in her right hand, her left finger touching the tip, she stared at them, a huge, cocky grin on her face. Amell felt his heart skip a beat involuntarily as he took in the elven woman’s familiar grey eyes, her silky black hair. Before he could process that, he felt anger flood his chest, his jaw stiffening. 

Of all the people to have discovered their plan, it had to be Surana.

“What are you doing here?” Gideon asked, unable to keep the venom out of his voice.

At the same time, Jowan said, “How much did you hear?”

Surana ignored Gideon, her smile widening as she turned her eyes to Jowan. 

“Enough. And I have a plan,” she said, looking to the wand she held. “This is a rod of fire, and it’ll heat up and blast a hole through pretty much anything which should get us past the second door to the phylacteries. As for the first to the storage area that should be easy enough. One non-mage and one mage, right Jowan? I’m assuming Lily’s coming with us.”

“You knew about this before, didn’t you?” Gideon accused. 

“I’ve heard the rumors about Jowan the same as everyone has. And I might have overheard him and Lily planning to leave. They weren’t very secretive about it. I mean they were meeting right in the library where anyone could overhear,” Mithian smiled innocently at him.

Gideon looked at Jowan from the side of his eyes and Jowan shrugged with wide eyes. Amell sighed and looked back to Surana. He had never accused Jowan of being particularly cunning and it was likely too late to start anyway.

“And how does an Apprentice know so much about the phylactery chamber and the storage unit reserved for forbidden or restricted items?” Amell asked her.

“I happen to be a very likable and social person. And one of my...friends,” she said, pausing, and smirking at the term, “who likes to leave the Tower and leave me very lonely in my bed may have provided me with the information.”

Gideon opened his mouth to say I’m sure your bed is lonely but as he did he realized who she was referring to, “You’re saying Anders told you?”

Mithian smiled sinfully at him, pleased that her statement had garnered a reaction from Amell. “Who else would I be referring to? Anders and I are very dear friends. In fact I’d say he’s one of my very favorite friends. No one else has ever left me feeling quite as satisfied as he has.”

To his horror, Gideon could feel his face becoming hot. He wasn’t sure if the blush was from anger or embarrassment but he suspected it was a healthy dose of both. His fists tightened as he pictured his close friend with his fingers caught in her black hair, his lips pressed firmly to the elf’s.

“You’re lying,” Amell said. “Anders wouldn’t be interested in someone like you.”

“And why wouldn’t he? You used to be completely interested in me. You were a lot more fun then... Although, not as fun as Anders.”

Suddenly Jowan grabbed Gideon’s arm and he realized he’d taken a step forward, a ball of energy in his palm. He sensed the mana gathered around him and could even feel the fade wavering, as though the Spirits themselves were trying to answer his call. In his entire life he had never come so close to losing hold over his magic.

He glared at Surana as he took a step back, easily releasing his magic as he became aware of it. Finally he smoothed his facial expression as best he could, angry that she could still pull his strings so easily after all this time.

He wanted to say something, anything to her but there were no words strong enough to convey the hate she had planted within him, that she was now cultivating. So instead he took a second to think logically about the situation before he next spoke. 

“I don’t believe you,” he said simply.

“Whether or not you believe me doesn’t change the fact that it happened… many times. So go ahead, believe whatever you want. I’m done caring about what you think of me,” Mithian said, a little bit of anger showing in her expression for the first time during their conversation.

“Not about that,” Gideon said, his voice so angry it almost came out hissing, before he took a deep breath. 

His chest ached and he resisted the urge to rub it. He was aware the pain wasn’t physical. 

“I don’t believe Anders would have known a way to secure his freedom and not went for it. If all he needed was a Rod of Fire, a Harrowed Mage, and a non-mage he would have stayed to at least try that. He already had me and obtaining something as simple as a Rod of Fire would have posed no problem for him. I don’t believe he told you that information.”

“Or maybe you’re just jealous that he told me something he didn’t tell you, his supposed best friend. After all you go around pretending to be this perfect Circle mage never breaking the rules, maybe he didn’t trust you,” Mithian said defensively. “Now are we going to do this or are you going to interrogate me all day? Because as fun as it is for me to see you get all riled up I’m sure that Jowan here wants to leave soon.”

Gideon looked to Jowan who stared nervously back at him and Amell had to agree with her assessment. He looked back to her. It didn’t matter how she knew about the chamber only that she knew they planned to break into it.

With a flat voice, Gideon said, “Great. Then give us the Rod and head back to whoever is keeping your bed warm this week.”

“No way. I got the Rod. I made the plan. I am coming with you. That’s not up for debate. I swear I’ll go straight to Irving if you leave me out,” she said, holding tightly to the Rod.

“You expect us to trust you? While threatening us?” Gideon asked, his voice still calm even as the irritation that he suspected was a permanent side effect of Surana’s presence ate at him. 

“It’s up to you. If you’d prefer for your plan to be over with before it’s even started then by all means you can take the Rod and I’ll just be on my way.”

“Fine, I agree on the condition that you tell us why you are so insistent on joining us,” Gideon said rationally. 

“You know I think Tranquility is a huge flaw in the mage system and that it should be abolished. And besides I want to help because Jowan is still my friend. He’s been out of sorts lately. Just last week he barely even wanted to be around me, when usually he’s so delighted by my presence, and I had to practically force my company on him,” Mithian pouted.

“You expect me to believe that? I’d believe you if you told me you’d slept with half the Circle Tower, but not Jowan,” Amell said.

“Hey!” Jowan said, his voice slightly whiney. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Amell shook his head, unable to stop his amusement at his friend. He turned his head to Jowan smiling, “Jowan, you’re dating Lily remember?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Jowan said.

“Who said anything about sleeping with Jowan? And anyways that doesn’t matter. I do talk to him every once in a while to keep up to date on his life,” Mithian insisted, glancing at Jowan.

Amell wanted to ask her when she had suddenly taken an interest in his friends. They had been together on occasion when he had been making the biggest mistake in his life, but he had never perceived them as close. But he couldn’t figure out a way of asking such a question without insulting his friend who had yet to deny her claims of having spoken with her, something Jowan had never mentioned before. He decided he would have to ask Jowan about the details of that particular fact later, but right now he had one extremely irritating elven mage who was holding the fact that both his and Jowan’s fate rested in her tiny conniving little hands. 

Amell folded his arms over his chest and stared down Surana. He still didn’t believe her, not completely but she had answered his question and he had no choice but to give in to whatever request she wanted to make.

Mithian stared resolutely back at Amell. “Shall we go then?” she said, without waiting for a reply and she began to walk towards the lower level where the chamber was located. Amell began to follow.

Jowan, alone and behind the two angry Mages said, “Er? Lily?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At some point between the initial angry confrontation with Mithian and arriving at the lower levels entrance, Amell had realized that Surana was wearing a Harrowed mage’s robes. She had also brought a staff. He had not heard that she had successfully undergone the Rite, but then he tended to actively avoid any mention of her, including an ever increasingly long line of former lovers who tended to drop her name like she was their favorite brand of wine.

No, he definitely was not going to show an interest in her by asking when she’d become a Mage and he was going to ignore the way one knot in his stomach unclenched when he’d realized she had successfully graduated her Apprenticeship. The rest of the knots had been caused by her: what she had done, her presence, the annoying sound of her voice, the way her hair was too silky not to be spelled, the fact that Jowan had been speaking to her about Maker-knew-what, and Anders.

Stop thinking about Anders and Surana. It’s Jowan you should be worried about.

Suddenly a shriek was heard and he turned to see that one of the statues of armor in the hall they’d been walking down had come alive and smacked Lily with a heavy gauntlet glove to the ground. She fumbled a kick at it but her legs were tangled up in her Chantry robes and he heard Mithian give an exasperated sigh that mirrored his own feelings.

The fight was over almost as soon as it had begun. Despite the suit being non-living, whatever spell kept it active seemed to take damage from the mages’ spells if not from Lily’s timid swipes at it with a tiny knife she’d had for reasons Gideon couldn’t fathom. A dagger or short sword could have been hidden just as well and would have been more effective against literally anything the group would encounter before or after their escape.

The group encountered several more of these things. Jowan and Lily speculated on them. Jowan because he seemingly felt responsible for upholding group small talk, and the Chantry sister because she was afraid the suits were demonic despite Gideon assuring her that was not the case. Her insisting it was still possible despite knowing he was a Spirit Healer had for a second made her slightly more irritating than Surana who had been uncharacteristically quiet. 

The suspicious part of him wanted to question Mithian, but every single bone in his body wanted her to be as far from him as possible and silence was the only thing that seemed to soothe that feeling in him. 

After one off putting conversation with a statue, they arrived at last in the phylactery chamber. 

“Finally,” Jowan breathed as he dropped his phylactery, smashing it on the ground.

Gideon sighed, casting a spell that caused the liquid to vanish entirely. There was no need to take chances. Looking at the rest of the vials, he was tempted to smash all of them but his eyes scanned for one name in particular. 

“Well then, mission accomplished. Now how are we going to get out of here? I hadn’t actually planned that far ahead,” Mithian admitted.

“Yes, Jowan, how are we getting out of here?” Lily asked.

While the three of them talked, his friend’s voice going ever higher in his panic, Gideon continued his search, making sure that Surana was not paying attention to him as he found the phial with his name on it. 

Anders.

It was almost inevitable that Anders would be caught. From what Gideon understood of his friend’s escapades, he knew that the Apprentice always returned without a fight to the Circle. He was a smart man and he knew that resisting a Templar, especially templars who had repeatedly been forced to hunt him, could have deadly consequences. At this point Gideon had begun to worry that any excuse to turn Anders Tranquil or cut him down would be employed. 

Amell couldn’t think about that. All he knew was that if - when - Anders came back, that he would be alone. Sure, there were those who admired him, those he flirted with. Anders had many such people, but he also knew Anders wasn’t close to them. 

Gideon cleared his throat, “The only way we’re getting out of here is if no one noticed us enter or notices us leaving. I say we head toward the main door, Jowan and I together, and you two separately so no one suspects us. When we get there we quickly incapacitate the templars. Surana and I will attempt to spell the doors while Lily and Jowan try to force them open. If that doesn’t work, Surana and I will help pull. We have to be quick.”

“And lucky,” Jowan groaned. 

Years of experience had taught his friend that when it came to luck, he typically only had the bad sort.

“Well that should be easy for me. I happen to get lucky every day, sometimes multiple times a day,” Mithian smirked at Amell, trying to push his buttons.

“Pity the same can’t be said of your partners,” Amell said dryly.

“That’s funny because that’s not what Anders said the last time we were together. He seemed immensely happy with my performance.”

“That never happened!” Gideon said, his temper gone again.

Jowan put a hand on Amell’s arm, trying to comfort him but he shook it off. Jowan had never seen his friend lose his tight grip on his emotions the way he had today, not even when Surana had first broken his heart. He had simply told them what happened and said he never wished to speak of her again.

“You can keep denying it all you want but it did happen. Multiple times. Honestly, why would I bother making that up? We both know that Anders enjoys sex just as much as I do so it only makes sense that we would have gotten together.”

You don’t know him! Gideon thought but instead he took off toward the door at such a quick pace it was almost a run. He didn’t look back but he really hoped the shorter elf’s legs had to race to keep up. Amell didn’t stop even as he reached the top stair, opening the door quickly but silently. 

And it didn’t matter because in front of him stood half a dozen Templars, swords drawn.

There was a small gap in the center so that Amell could see behind them stood both the First Enchanter and Knight Commander. He could make out someone behind them but did not have a direct view of who it was.

His heart sank and he desperately wished he’d drawn his staff before opening the door though he knew fighting so many was a futile effort. But then he thought of Tranquility and thought he would much rather throw himself on a sword than risk that fate. 

Jowan came up to stand beside him and Lily on his other side. Surana quietly came out of the door last, edging toward the wall where she approached the Templars. Gideon was ready to open his mouth and shout a warning her way when they just...let her pass. His brain desperately grasped for meaning in that until it slowly began to dawn on him. Very slowly.

Because there was no way she could betray him twice without him having seen it coming.

“What’s going on?” Jowan whispered.

Still numb and in disbelief, Gideon couldn’t give his best friend the obvious answer he desired as Surana made her way to Irving’s side before standing to face them. Her grey eyes bored right into his and he felt cold. 

“It seems you were right Irving, a Chantry Initiate conspiring to free a blood mage,” Knight Commander Greagoir said.

“As you see I have provided you with undeniable proof, thanks to Mithian,” Irving replied.

Gideon couldn’t think. Part of him realized that Jowan had grabbed his arm, but he couldn’t look away from Surana who had finally broken eye contact to face Greagoir.

“She betrayed us,” Lily said quietly, full of sadness.

“Gideon, what do we do?” Jowan asked.

But Amell was still frozen.

“You mean you had this entire thing orchestrated without bothering to tell us that you were going to let a blood mage free access to the phylactery chamber as well as the restricted storage,” the Commander said angrily. “Maker knows what they did in there.”

“I’m sure that Mithian is more than willing to provide us with a full account of the events that took place. After all she came straight to me as soon as she first heard of this plot,” Irving said reasonably.

“After I spoke with the First Enchanter I acquired a Rod of Flame and then I found Amell and Jowan and convinced them to bring me along. We fought some sentinels on the way to the storage room. Once there we encountered a talking statue and it told us how to break through the wall into the phylactery chamber. Jowan destroyed his phylactery and then we left,” Mithian related without any of her usual sarcasm or snark.

“Lily, do you have an explanation for your actions?” Greagoir asked.

“I - Knight Commander - I didn’t mean to cause trouble but - I...no sir,” she said finally.

“Well, she seems in complete control of her own faculties, so not a thrall of the blood mage,” the Templar judged.

The Blood Mage. That’s all he is to him, just ‘The Blood Mage.’ He’s Jowan. His name is Jowan! a thought finally broke through Amell’s shock but still he couldn't really comprehend exactly what was happening. 

“And you, such a promising Mage from a young age, Amell. Despite your associations, you were always a good example, and now this. Why?” Greagoir asked, approaching the trio.

“Why?” Gideon choked out, his voice sounding strangled. “Why?”

He’s my best friend! You have too much power which you abuse! The Circle is wrong! Tranquility is an atrocity. I would rather die than have that happen to me or someone I care about. Because we’re people too. Because choice. Because it’s about time I fight back, if it’s the last thing I do.

But he couldn’t find the air to say that. He hadn’t been able to breathe properly since...since...his eyes met Surana’s again, a new fire burning behind them as she stared at him impassively but she didn’t need a trademark smirk to mock him.

“Jowan, Gideon, I’m disappointed in you,” Irving said.

“Don’t act like you care about us!” Jowan said, uncharacteristically angry. “You don’t care about the mages. You were going to let them make me Tranquil. You’re always bowing to the Templar’s will. I’d rather die than be made Tranquil.”

“Enough,” Greagoir said then motioned to a couple templars on the far left. “You two, take the Initiate to the Holding Cells, we’ll have to prepare her passage to Aeonar.”

“Aeonar? No! Please, not the mage’s prison!” Lily begged.

But the two templars paid her no heed, grabbing a hold of one of her arms and beginning to walk her in the direction that led to the dungeon where the Holding Cells and Solitary Confinement Spaces were. They had only moved a few steps away from the two mages when Jowan spoke up:

“No!” he shouted.

This caused Gideon to break from his trance and look to his friend who had removed a dagger he had hidden somewhere in his robes. Without hesitating, he pulled up his sleeves and part of Amell’s brain saw the scars on his arm and wondered what his friend had managed to accidentally do to get them. But that only lasted a second, his brain coming to the realization that those scars were self-inflicted right before the metal ripped yet another wound open on his arm. 

“I won’t let you take her!” Jowan shouted.

Suddenly power burst from Jowan as Gideon had never felt it from his friend before. It was easily five times more powerful than his most powerful spells before, just slightly under what Gideon himself had been able to accomplish working with Fade spirits. A disproportionate amount of blood spilled forth with the force as all six templars, the Commander, Irving, Lily, Mithian, and the person behind them were all knocked off their feet.

Jowan started to come toward Lily to offer her a hand he had outstretched as he said, “Come with me.” 

“No, I - you’re a monster. I never loved you. Go!” she said, sounding close to tears.

Jowan turned toward Amell, the only other person standing, for an instant. Gideon’s eyes once again refused to blink, his mouth slightly open. In one day he had been betrayed by the only three people he had cared about since learning he was a Mage. He should have expected it from Surana, she had a habit of hurting him. But Anders and Jowan?

He wasn’t sure if Jowan said anything as the first person groaned and started to stir. Instead, his best friend ran from the room, heading from the Tower. 

The first person to begin to recover, lifting himself onto his hands, was the Knight Commander. “Blood magic! I knew it but to think he could do this!” He stood and he turned and he called out, “First Enchanter, are you alright?

“I’m fine Greagoir,” Irving said as he too began to rise to his feet with Surana’s help. “None of us saw this coming.”

“If you had told me sooner than none of this might have happened. The only reason this occurred was because you decided to have your pet pupil enable them. And you - you helped a blood mage! What were you thinking?” Greagoir asked, turning on him. 

At this point a templar had come running full tilt toward the Knight Commander, barely able to stop before hitting him.

“A mage has escaped! He used blood magic! We couldn’t stop him,” the nameless fellow said.

Greagoir dismissed him, telling him to start a letter to have the best hunters after the Apprentice Blood Mage without a phylactery. He then ordered two templars to escort Lily to the holding chambers to which she readily agreed. Of the four remaining, one seemed to be too injured to stand without assistance, so a fellow helped him stagger to a healer. The remaining two stood their ground, though they also seemed unwell, swaying in place with their swords drawn but at their sides.

Mithian had left Irving’s side and Gideon realized she was moving to stand at his side. 

“Gideon, were you harmed?” Irving asked, his voice sounding worried.

“How are you feeling?” Mithian asked, sounding as if she were actually attempting to be polite for once in her life.

“You should stay back,” Greagoir instructed her. 

“Why? He’s more likely to faint than raise a finger to hurt me,” she said.

“He helped a blood mage escape! Does everyone keep forgetting that?” Greagoir asked, frustrated.

“But he was an idiot blood mage,” Surana said.

“Shut up,” Gideon said, blinking and turning his head abruptly to her, his entire body now angling away from her. 

Mithian smirked at him, “See, he’s not broken and he’s harmless. You’re welcome, Greagoir.”

Gideon repressed a sneer and turned his face back to the Knight Commander. “What are you going to do?”

“You aided a blood mage and we can’t trust that you aren’t one yourself,” Greagoir said.

“I didn’t know he was a blood mage!” Gideon said, frustrated and trying to make sense of everything he was feeling. “After - after - how could I know that he would be so - I didn’t know.”

“You broke Chantry rules, defied the Circle. It doesn’t matter whether you knew he was a blood mage, those rules are in place for a reason, mage,” the Commander countered.

“The rules should change! You were going to make him Tranquil!”

“Do you have no remorse for what you’ve done?” the Templar asked.

“I’m sure he -” Mithian began.

“No,” Gideon said, his voice finally calm, his chin jutted up slightly. “I don’t. Even if I had known he was a blood mage I would have helped him. I wouldn’t have allowed you to make him Tranquil without his permission.”

Greagoir just shook his head before turning to the two remaining guards. “Take him to Solitary, have the Rite of Tranquility prepared.”

“No!” Gideon shouted. Then loudly, “You can’t do this, I’m Harrowed!”

He began backing away from the Templars, bumping Surana as he put distance. This time the Templars were prepared however, casting Smites and otherwise dampening his magic before he’d even thought to summon it. They grabbed his arms and he thrashed, shouting as they began to drag him away.

Mithian looked to Irving catching his eye as she moved to stand by him.

“You have to do something. You promised me,” Mithian said, voice terrified and pleading.

Irving turned to the gentleman behind him who had been standing silent for most of the scene. Duncan took several steps forward before saying loudly, “Wait.”

The templars seemed to respond instantly to the authoritative tone in his voice and Greagoir turned to stare at him incredulously.

“What do you want, Warden? Your presence here is not needed,” the Commander said.

“I disagree,” he said. “The man in your custody has gifts that could be of use to the Grey Wardens if you no longer see fit to use them. I would like to recruit him.”

“What?” Greagoir asked, outraged. “He helped a blood mage, he broke chantry rules and the Circle’s rules, shows no regret, and openly admits he would do the same thing over given the chance. He could not be of use to you.”

“The Grey Wardens take any means necessary to get the job done, and a sense of loyalty that runs so strong you’d risk yourself on it is an admirable trait that Order requires,” Duncan said, his eyes sweeping toward Surana and lingering before his attention turned back to the Templar. 

“No, I refuse. This mage must not go unpunished,” Greagoir said angrily. 

“Greagoir, mages are needed as are the Grey Wardens. There are worse things than blood mages that plague us, and his help is needed,” Duncan said. “And if you do not allow me to take him as my recruit willingly, I will enforce the Right of Conscription.”

Amell stared at the Warden disbelievingly. He had forgotten all about him since everything had begun to go wrong (starting with Mithian showing up - and thinking about what she did caused his blood to race). He had comforted Jowan with the hope that Conscription would be possible if this scenario had played out, but he’d never considered it a likely possibility. 

Greagoir made an irritated noise before throwing his hands up. “Fine, release the mage. He’s the Warden’s responsibility now, anything he does or becomes is on your head.”

With that Greagoir left, towing the two templars behind him.

“You’re recruiting me?” Gideon asked, his voice smaller than he liked.

“Yes, unless you would prefer to remain here?” Duncan asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I would rather die than be made Tranquil. So my life is yours,” Gideon said, suddenly exhausted.

“Good, then go pack what you wish to take with you for we will leave soon.” 

When Amell had left, Duncan turned to the First Enchanter and Surana. 

“Irving, I must request that I leave with one more thing.”

“Whatever we can provide you is at your disposal,” Irving said compliantly.

“I want to recruit Mithian Surana.”

“What?” Irving asked, sounding surprised. “That was never - you didn't say - she is still young and only recently Harrowed.” 

“That is true, but I have heard her teachers speak highly of her skill, as have you. And it takes bravery to do what you think is right especially when it is difficult and the consequences unclear,” Duncan said. 

“You can’t possibly be serious? I don’t want to be a Warden. I’m quite happy here. Besides Amell hates me, so you should just take him and go,” Mithian told Duncan.

Duncan took a moment before responding. “The Grey Wardens need all the recruits they can get to stop the Blight. While Gideon Amell’s talents would be wasted if he were to be left here, if I am forced to choose between a mage of considerable skill who cannot be trusted to follow rules, and a mage of equally considerable skill who has proven can follow orders, I will be forced to choose you.” 

“Are you threatening Amell’s freedom to get to me? How do you even know that would work? I could very well hate him just as much as he hates me,” Mithian said, eyes angry.

“If you hated him, you wouldn’t have been in favor of me recruiting him, allowing him to get away with the very thing you were trying to punish him for,” Duncan said. “I do not wish to force your hand, Miss Surana, but we are in desperate need of your skills and Gideon’s but I can only use the Right of Conscription so often before a nation tires of it and rallies against us. With a darkspawn horde gathering in the south, I cannot afford that. We face a Blight, and I need your aid.”

“What do you think I should do Irving? This is home... but if I go I could help keep Amell safe. Who knows what kind of trouble he could get in without me,” Mithian felt conflicted.

“While we will miss you dearly here, Mithian, this is your opportunity to make the most of your gifts. While I may not be happy the Commander didn’t discuss his thoughts with me or approve of the manner in which he is attempting to appeal to you now, Ferelden needs you and I would not begrudge them a noble woman such as yourself. The Circle will always be here, your home, should you come back to it or need it,” Irving said.

“So long as I have your blessing then I will join them. I bet Amell’s going to be thrilled when he realizes he’s not getting rid of me,” Mithian tried to make light of the situation.

“I am sure you will take your amusement where you can, child,” Irving said with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“You know me so well,” Mithian smiled and then turned serious. “I’ll miss you so much. You’ve been like a father to me all these years.” She threw her arms around him.

Irving smiled warmly wrapping his arms around Surana. “I feel the same, Mithian. I will miss you as well, and I do hope that your journeys bring you back here, hopefully in times you’ve helped make safer. Feel free to write, I’m sure both Finn and myself will look forward to hearing from you.”

Mithian nodded, having no more words to express her feelings and on the verge of crying. The last thing she wanted was for all the Apprentices to see her like this on her last day before becoming a part of a legendary order.

When she pulled away she tried to smile at him, her eyes wet. He smiled at her, his hands now on her shoulders. Finally she walked away quickly, to gather her things from her quarters which left the Warden and the First Enchanter alone.

“I know you can’t promise me that they will be safe,” Irving said. “But they will always be my charges and so I ask that you do what you can to protect them from unnecessary harm.”

“I will. Thank you, friend,” Duncan said, grasping Irving’s forearm.

Irving laughed, “See if you are as grateful when you have those two with you on the road to Orzammar.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mithian had finished packing and now she was trying to find Finn, the only person she actually felt like saying goodbye to. She had already checked the library and was on her way to his quarters to see if he was there. When she walked in he was sitting at his desk reading.

“Hello Finn,” Mithian said.

Finn put his book down readily, something she hadn’t seen him do since...she wasn’t sure when.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” 

“Mithian Surana, I have known you since I was ten and been your best friend since we were sixteen, I know your voice. I know when you have something serious to say. And you only have something serious to say if something is wrong,” Finn said. 

Mithian hesitated not sure how to break the news, but then she decided that her usual bluntness would suffice, “I’m leaving. I don’t have time to tell you the whole story, I’ll write a letter later telling you, but… I’m becoming a Grey Warden.”

“It’s because of Amell isn’t it?”

“Well… he’s part of it,” Mithian said, pulling on her hair. “Actually, he’s becoming a Warden too.”

“You like the Circle. You’ve been waiting to become a full mage for years. I just can’t help feeling...Are you sure about this?” Finn asked, rising to stand and walk in front of her.

“I wasn’t but the Warden Commander gave me some….. compelling reasons. And Irving provided his blessing,” she added the second part almost as an afterthought.

“Is this what you want?”

“Are you really going to make me say why I’m really going?” 

“No. I don’t need to know why Mithian. You know how I love having the answer to mysteries, but I’ve never asked that of you. I just want to know that my best friend is going to be happy. I don’t want to see you do something that will make you miserable because you felt you had to,” Finn said. 

Mithian frowned a little, “I don’t know. I do know that going is better than the alternative that Duncan implied would happen. If he had done that I would have been miserable for the rest of my life.”

Finn was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to say what he wanted to convey. “The Wardens have the Right of Conscription but I assume he only needed Amell to force your hand. I’m sorry Mithian. I - I’m sure you’ll be a great Warden. And the Circle and I will be here if you ever need to come home.”

“You assume right. I know he was threatening me but I couldn’t let him do it anyways,” Mithian placed a hand on her forehead. “Maker, I don’t even know how he figured out that using him against me would get him exactly what he wanted. I always thought I was better at hiding it.”

Finn shifted, thinking over his words again. “Any power that has to exist not only among but above nations is going to be crafty. They work their way around nation leaders, their Conscriptions supersede the laws. They didn’t get that way by only recruiting meat shields. This Warden who conscripted you - what’s your opinion of him?”

“He knows exactly what buttons to push to get what he wants and he’s willing to manipulate people in order to ensure the outcome he needs. But overall I don’t think he’s a bad man… Maybe not a good one either, but definitely not bad.”

“I’m going to worry about you,” Finn said as if he was settling on a decision.

“I’ll be fine. I always am,” Mithian said, sounding a little more like her normal self. 

“Be careful around Amell. I know you have...history, but he’s dangerous,” Finn said.

“I know how to handle him. Besides he might hate me but he would never hurt me.”

“Maybe not intentionally,” Finn said. Before Mithian could protest he raised his hands. “Mithian, just be careful.”

“Fine. I promise that I’ll be careful. But I assure you Amell will be the least of my worries. I’m going to have to sleep on the ground for starters,” Mithian said trying to make light of the situation. 

Finn looked left and then right slightly uncomfortable. “Should we hug now?”

Mithian pouted, “All I get is a hug? I mean, I don’t even get to go have my celebration with Matthew and Naomi now.”

“I’m certainly not filling in for you. Besides, I’m sure you’ll find new people to celebrate with you, you always do,” Finn said.

“Can you at least tell them I’m sorry? Maybe I can find Cullen and give him a goodbye kiss. After all, I'm not one of his charges anymore so he wouldn’t necessarily get in trouble,” Mithian said, her eyes lighting up with her plan. 

“Right, three apology letters,” Finn said.

Finn looked to his feet, shifting uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“I love you, Florian Phineas Horatio Aldebrant, Esquire,” Mithian said suddenly serious again, her eyes filling with tears, and then pulled him into a tight hug. 

Finn blushed bright red but returned the hug tightly, whispering feverently, “I love you too. I’m going to miss you.”

Mithian hugged him for a few more moments before she finally pulled away, the tears falling from her eyes now. “I have to go, Duncan only gave us a few minutes to pack our things,” she said pressing a kiss to his cheek quickly, before turning to leave. 

The last thing she heard as she turned into the hall was Finn taking a deep, shaky breath. 

As she was struggling to control her tears she bumped into someone. She looked up to find Cullen standing before her for the third time that day. 

“Mithian, are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“The Warden Commander recruited me,” she said simply.

“What? Why? I mean - that is - you’re very skilled - I didn’t mean to imply he wouldn’t want you - I do - I mean would - if I were him - just -”

“He said he needed skilled mages. He came here for Amell but decided he wanted both of us. I didn’t want to leave but he managed to provide…. reasons for me to go.”

Cullen blinked several times while staring at her, unable to figure out what to do. His hand shaking he placed it on her shoulder as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll make a good Warden. I - we’ll - miss you here though.”

“Since this is the last time I’m going to see you I’m going to be honest with you. Is that ok?” Mithian looked into his brown eyes.

“I - um - er - I - I don’t know,” he said honestly, dropping his hand.

“Please?” she asked quietly. “I just don’t want to leave unfinished business or leave things left unsaid.”

“Ok,” he said, still sounding nervous.

“I know you probably thought that all of my flirting with you was just because I flirt with everyone,” she paused to take a steadying breath. “But with you it was different. I always had actual feelings for you. I don’t know exactly what they are, but they are different from all my meaningless flings. I just wanted you to know that before I left.”

Cullen opened his mouth and closed it twice before he remembered to breathe. And blink.

“Cullen? Are you ok?” she said waving her hand in front of his face.

“What-do-you-mean-feelings?” he asked so quickly it seemed to become one word.

“You know, romantic ones? Like ‘I like you’ feelings? And… had things been different I think there was definite potential for falling in love with you, Cullen,” she said placing a hand on his arm.

“I don’t...I - you. Can’t. Me? Templar,” he said, as though explaining something very important in some barbarian speech.

“I assure you I can. It doesn’t matter that you’re a Templar. Well… maybe it does a little. I mean if you weren’t then we actually could have been together,” Mithian knew she was rambling. It was like her mouth was trying to make up for Cullen’s own lack of speech.

“I am a Templar,” Cullen said, sounding confused. Then as if assuring himself, “I am a Templar.”

“Yes? Maker, Cullen, I don’t have much time left. Can’t you try to regain control of yourself?”

Cullen blinked, and his face seemed to slowly relax, his eyes focusing on hers again, sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I could never be with you, Mithian.” Then his voice quiet, almost a whisper, “No matter how I felt.”

Mithian’s heart pounded at his final admission. Oh, screw it, she thought and reached up pulling his mouth down to her own, threading her fingers through the curly hair at the base of his neck.

Her heart sounded in her ears, blood rushing through her veins. Every person she had kissed had brought a rush of pleasure, but none of them had been quite the same effect, not since...she couldn’t even think of his name or face. It was gone. For one terrifying moment she had kissed Cullen and time had stopped. For one moment she had broken the rules. Soon time would start again and he would pull away, horrified, she would leave and her heart would hurt. She would miss him, and Finn, and Irving.

But not right this second.

Then she was suddenly yanked from that second when she felt his hands on her waist, sure he would push her away now, force her to keep her distance. But instead they pulled her close, her chest flooding with warmth as he pressed her close to him, his lips responding to hers.

Mithian let the kiss go on for several moments and then her brain forced her to remember why this was even happening. She had to go find Duncan so she could leave the Tower. This wouldn’t even be happening if she wasn’t supposed to leave. With that thought she forced herself to pull away, though she stayed close to Cullen.

She smiled up at him, into his fearful, serious eyes. She was happier than she’d felt in awhile, “As much as I would love to keep doing this I have to go before Duncan comes looking for me. I’ll miss you Cullen. Goodbye.” She squeezed his hand and placed one more quick kiss on his lips before walking down the hall to meet Duncan.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	7. Jowan's Escape

**Chapter Seven**

**Jowan’s Escape**

_ Sarah Tabris _

It had only been a day since she had seen Nelaros’s family on their way. They had decided to head to Amaranthine as they had relatives there. They had discussed traveling to Denerim, and while Tabris had wanted to wholeheartedly recommend it, knowing her community would welcome them, she also knew that whatever chaos she had left behind her did not bode well for her fellow elves and that some of them may even hold what happened against the man for what his son had helped bring about.

Sarah tightened her fists, trying to fight the swarm of visions that flooded her when she thought about her fiancé but ultimately lost the battle. She had told Mahariel that she was losing herself to it less, that she was able to stop reliving it against her will, but she had lied so she had been spending as much time away from him as possible. With Daveth’s easy banter and Cousland having lost so much of her family, Rhys had been forced to shift his focus there.

She bit down the last scream in the stables alone. The sun was rising and there were few people outside the tavern. They were a short distance from a nearby town and there had been much travel the day before but now it was was calm, quiet. She wiped the cold sweat from her brow.

Then the wooden door burst open, banging loudly against the stable wall. A human, long ebony hair falling over his wide frantic eyes looked around as he grabbed and slammed the door behind him. He was covered in blood and appeared to have a wound on his arm. Her eyes turned to his face again as he spotted her.

“Please,” the man said, his voice desperate. “Help me.”

Sarah looked at the man for a moment. He was wearing bright colored fabric, robes, with a staff on his back and a dagger haphazardly shoved into his belt. The man was clearly fleeing the mage prison on the lake.

“How far are they behind you?” she asked.

“It will take them at least fifteen minutes to retrieve the boat from the middle of the lake and get it over here. Hopefully longer,” he said. 

Then he took a deep gulping breath, clearly having done more exercise than he had been accustomed to in his escape. 

“You’re - you’re not afraid of me?”

“Are you going to hurt me?” Sarah asked.

“No!” he said. “But I’m a mage and covered in blood and if the Templars find out you helped me -”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Jowan. I’m Jowan.”

“Sarah Tabris,” she said.

She thought of explaining that she knew what it was like to be trapped in a life others made for you that you couldn’t escape. Tabris had never blamed her fellow elves for that, they had made the best life and community they could for her. But the humans had dictated that elves were servants, only slightly better than slaves. The attitude they held toward her and her people had forced them into slums and allowed men like Vaughan who had power to take whatever privileges he wanted from them. 

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Tabris asked, turning to one of the Warden’s horses.

“No,” Jowan said.

Sarah sighed and turned back to him. “Follow me, then” she said.

She took Jowan through a crack in the barn large enough both of them to fit if they went out one by one and ducked. Here there was already a carriage set up and she showed him to the driver’s seat, instructing him on how to get the horses to move.

“But don’t we need a horse?” the man asked confused.

Sarah laughed. “I thought you could conjure a magical horse or spirit or something like that.”

“What? I can’t do that! That’s not how magic works. How -” he began to panic.

“Relax,” Tabris said. “I was joking. I’ll go get the horse.”

When she returned she led one of the horses from the barn, not a Warden’s so likely one of the tavern’s other residents. She wasn’t sure whether Duncan would be more angry if she had let him take both a horse and cart from them, or if he’d be more against a Warden recruit stealing another horse to assist an Apostate.

She smirked to herself, either way, she looked forward to his irritation if he found out. After forcing his recruits to join him and advocating letting all those who did not benefit him to be left behind, she felt that Duncan was owed a little retribution. 

Not that she would tell him that of course. 

She quickly set the horse up, a skill she had learned as a young teen. Jowan took the horse a couple of steps, seemingly afraid of the reins he was holding but able to get the horse to do what he wanted.

“I recommend you ditch the wagon as soon as you come to a river or some other place to hide your tracks,” Tabris said. “Otherwise they will catch up to you, and quickly. Best to do it before morning. Set the horses free though.”

“Thank you. I didn’t think anyone would want to help a mage,” Jowan said.

“You’re also a person,” she said.    
  


Sarah didn’t mention how the ‘covered in blood’ thing was way more likely to stop her from offering her assistance than his magic, but given that she had found herself covered in quite a bit of blood lately, she hardly thought it fair for her to judge him on it. 

Instead she pretended to ignore the fact that the man had tears in his eyes as she grabbed one of the bags that had been leaning against the barn wall and tossed it to him.

“Apples,” she said. “For the road.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice wavering. She nodded to him, about to tell him to hurry when he continued. “I have a friend, his name is Gideon Amell. If he gets out - if you see him - tell him I’m alright. Tell him I’m sorry, that he’s my best friend and I didn’t mean...Tell him goodbye. And… and give him this.”

The mage handed her a small leather-bound book. Sarah nodded as she thought she heard some commotion in the distance. Loud, angry voices. She tucked the book away under some hay and looked to the human who didn’t seem to yet pick up on the sound with his less sensitive ears. 

He needed a head start, she needed an alibi.

“I need you to hurt me,” Sarah said.

“What?” the man asked, his voice so high it practically squeaked. “I wouldn’t - I couldn’t.” 

“You have to. Your jailors are coming for you and we need to distract them, you need to go, and I need a reason why I let a runaway mage get along with my dear mistress’s carriage,” Sarah said, false sweetness in her voice at the end.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Can you throw me? And can you cast that stone-stuff on my feet after?” she asked. 

She knew she should have asked Mahariel more about the names of his spells, though she now wondered if the names the Dalish used would be the same as the Circle.

“I - I think so yes. I may...need to...use blood magic,” Jowan said. “I’m not a very good mage.”

The way he’d said that felt like he had meant two different things by the phrase ‘good mage.’ Sarah didn’t have time to ask what he meant or what blood magic was and how it differed from normal magic. 

“Do what you have to.”

Jowan cut into his arm before throwing her roughly with magic toward the barn. The spell hit her harder than she expected, her body breaking the slabs at the barn’s base, some wood digging into her shoulder blades. The air had left her lungs and so she couldn’t even cry out.

“Maker, I’m sorry I didn’t mean -” Jowan began.

She got enough air to gasp, “Hurry.”

He cast her feet in stone as she tried to lift herself up but struggled to find the strength as all her muscles ached.  _ I had to help him. I just had to get myself involved _ , she thought sarcastically _. _

When Jowan had made it over the far hill Tabris finally had enough air in her lungs to scream which she did as loudly as she could before she began to shout.

“Help! Somebody help me!” 

Her chest ached and she sat up, suddenly hoping that the Templars or the Wardens were within earshot. She didn’t want to be trapped in her current position any longer. 

Two men ran to her. One was heavily armored, covered head to toe in metal. Even from her limited interactions with Templars it was clear he belonged to that warrior order. The other was in leather armor though was just as bulky as his fellow with Chantry symbols on what cloth he did wear. If she had to guess he was a runner or some sort of agent of speed or stealth.

“Please help me,” she gasped. 

“Was it a mage that did this to you?” the leather-armored templar asked.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “I was tending my mistress's carriage when he attacked and demanded it. I begged him not to take it but he attacked. I don’t know what happened after. Please, help me.”

The man in leather turned from her examining the ground. “The tracks are easy to follow. I should be able to catch up to him by morning so your message may not be necessary, Ivan. We can afford time to help.”

Ivan grunted, removing a large warhammer from his back. Tabris thought of asking when the Order had changed their stance on what seemed to be regulation swords but didn’t have the time as she gasped when he brought it down heavy on her feet. Luckily he was accurate or her legs would have surely been as shattered as the stone now was. She was able to shake her feet free as the other Templar offered her his hands and she got up.

“You are bleeding and should have someone to see to your wounds,” he said before letting go of her hands and nodding to Ivan. “Let’s get the horses.”

“Thank you,” Tabris said, in as small a voice as possible. 

The two men left her as she watched. She couldn’t head back to the tavern just yet, she knew she had to wait until the Templars had left. But she also knew that she had to appear as a servant would, quickly going back to her mistress or some person who might think it worth the time to heal an elf. 

She headed toward the tavern and halfway there she heard the sound of galloping horses. She turned to see the two Templars ride off quickly, one after Jowan and the other headed east. Sarah continued toward the tavern, sitting exhaustedly on a bench placed against the side of the building that faced the road, a fire was in front of it, whoever started it having left it to let it die off, probably drunk the night before. 

She looked out over the lake to the left as she gathered her strength to stand and seek out one of her fellow Wardens to heal her. The wounds ached but didn’t feel as though they were serious, maybe even within Mahariel’s healing abilities. If not, she could have him treat the wounds.


	8. Modesty

_Rhysand Mahariel_

Rhysand’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the pain in the way Sarah held her shoulders as she sat on the bench. Her eyes were shut and she was holding her abdomen. Then he saw all the blood.

“Are you alright? What happened?” he asked her.

Her green eyes opened to look at him standing above her. To either side stood Daveth and Cousland. She smiled at him deviously.

“Well, the good news is we don’t have to pack the carriage anymore,” Tabris said.

“Is the bad news that you’re completely covered in what appears to be your own blood?” Daveth joked gently.

Tabris coughed a laugh. “It’s only partly my blood.”

“Oh - well, that’s good news then,” Daveth said cheerfully.

Rhys wanted to kick the man. Cousland had been standing silently behind the others looking distressed. 

She took a small step closer and said quietly, “But you’re ok, right? You aren’t going to die?” 

She looked genuinely worried that that was an actual possibility. 

“I’m much less injured than I look really,” Tabris said.

“Where are you hurt?” Rhys asked.

“Well, bruised all over but nothing broken. It’s my back, looks like Duncan is going to need to buy a new set of armor,” she said.

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. Who knows, by the time we get to Ostagar we may have gone through more sets of armor than he’s collected recruits,” Daveth said, grinning.

“At the rate he’s collecting?” Tabris said. “It’s like tragedy follows that man everywhere he goes.”

“Remind me not to bring him home to see the family,” Daveth said.

She grinned at Daveth and Rhys breathed out his nose quietly. 

“Rachel, can you go inside and grab one of the medical kits?” Rhys asked. 

Rachel looked relieved to be given an excuse to leave the group after Daveth’s comment. She nodded slightly and turned walking swiftly away from the group. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. 

Once she was far enough away that Rhys was confident she wouldn’t overhear them he turned to Daveth. 

“You do realize that Lady- that Rachel just lost her entire family. I know you like to joke about things but try to be a little more sensitive, please.”

“Oh. Shit. I didn’t mean it like that,” Daveth said.

“I know,” Rhys said kindly. 

Then he turned back to Tabris whose cheeks were red, seemingly aware of her own part in the gaffe.

“Can I look at your injuries?” Rhys asked her.

Sarah nodded and Rhys moved to stand behind where she sat on the bench. He said nothing for a moment as it hit him what that meant. Her injuries weren’t just under her ruined armor. They were under her clothes.

“I need you to remove your shirt,” he said calmly.

Daveth grinned, catching the way the mage’s cheeks grew pink under his tattoos. 

“Would you two elves like to be alone or am I invited to this party as well?” Daveth asked.

There was a tense silence and Mahariel felt it hard to breathe. He had warned the thief about being more tactful but Daveth didn’t know about Tabris, her wedding, or the aftermath. 

“It’s ok, Rhysand,” Tabris said quietly. “Will you be able to leave the armor on?”

“Yes, I will just have to open up the back,” he said.

Tabris nodded and lifted off her shirt, the back only held together by loose strands. Mahariel took a deep, quiet breath, glad she couldn’t see his face that he tried to keep impassive to the situation. 

Cousland came back at that moment holding the medical supplies out to Rhys.   
  
“Thank you, Rachel. Would you and Daveth turn around?” Rhys asked politely. Rachel and Daveth moved to follow his instruction without a word.

Rhys reached to unbuckle Sarah’s armor, his hands slightly shaking. He was worried about how Tabris would react to being touched, especially after what Vaughan and his friends had done to her. He didn’t want to cause her to stress or panic so he tried his best to keep his touches minimal and professional. 

At the same time though he was also panicking because he undressed a woman like this. And while the Dalish wore much less armor in general than the others wore, given most who wore it were hunters, not warriors, this was different. Sarah’s back had been covered the entire time they had been together and that made the moment feel even more intimate too. 

“The wounds don’t look too deep. I think I should be able to heal most of the damage with my magic and then I can bind the rest to make sure it doesn’t get infected,” Rhys said his voice wavering a little which he hoped the others didn’t notice. 

He grabbed his staff and took one more deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves, refusing to let a swirling blur of images bubble up into consciousness from memory. Then he began to cast a basic healing spell. He tried to keep his focus entirely on his task but he couldn’t help but get distracted by little observances he hadn’t noticed before. He saw that Sarah had a small scar just under her ear and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what had caused it. He flushed, forcing himself to concentrate more on his spell. 

Finally he finished what healing he could and reached to grab some bandages to place on the rest of her wounds. He thought he had done a decent enough job and then stared at Tabris’s exposed skin as realization dawned on him.

“So most of the wounds are healed - but - I - in order to wrap the bandages around you…” Rhys trailed off unsure how to continue and feeling more awkward by the second. “Do you - what do you want me to do?” 

Rhys had never felt so tongue tied in his entire life. It didn’t help that he could hear Daveth laughing to himself. Sarah looked red and her jaw was stiff. He wished he could know what she was thinking.

“I...it’s ok...I…” Sarah said, trying to come up with the right words. “I trust you, Rhysand.”

Rhys was once again glad that she couldn’t see his face. He knew he must look as red as a tomato right now and when she had said that she trusted him his mouth had opened and closed several times as he tried to process what he wanted to say. 

“I…. Are you sure? We could- maybe it would be better if Lady Rachel did it?” Rhys was sure he had never felt so awkward and unsure in his life. “I mean, I appreciate your trust - I just - I don’t…. um…. I will if it’s what you want.” 

Rhys blushed even more when he realized what his words implied and slammed his mouth shut, determined not to say another word lest he make the situation even more awkward for everyone involved.

Daveth was outright laughing, slightly bent over. Cousland stood stiff as a board except for one moment where she quickly elbowed the thief in the ribs which only caused him to quiet himself.

“So glad I didn’t leave for this,” Daveth said.

Sarah couldn’t help but blush deeper. She looked horrified. 

“I - no - it’s...I don’t want to force you to...I can bandage myself. Or we could just leave it, the wounds aren’t very serious anyway and I think the spell is probably...I’ll be fine,” Sarah said.

Rhys’s hands froze at the word ‘force.’ Why would she think that? Had he - had he seemed like it was something he was being forced to do? Gods, he was supposed to be Keeper and he couldn’t manage to bandage wounds without fumbling.

“No - it’s fine….. it’s - fine. Ok - just…. um…. could you - We need to…. remove…. the armor,” Rhys felt like his words were strangling him. 

He suddenly wished he had more healing experience back when he was First just so he would have some more prior experience with bandaging someone’s chest. Although, he didn’t think that would entirely help in this moment. 

“Do you need…. help…. with that? Or can you….?” he trailed off again.

“I could help with that,” Daveth piped up. “Really, it would be no problem.”

Cousland then aimed a kick to his shin.

“Ask me again when the Blight has claimed the life of every other man in Thedas,” Sarah said to him, his humor somehow helping soothe the situation.

“You wound me more than Lady Rachel,” Daveth said.

“If you keep up with this I can wound you a lot more than that. Don’t you know how to be respectful at all?” Rachel said with anger in her voice.

Daveth let out a low whistle, “Well, well look who’s finally grown some claws.”

Rachel just kicked his shin again and smiled to herself at his grunt of pain. Daveth stumbled, hopping on one leg until he had recovered from the pain.

“My money’s on Cousland,” Sarah called to him.

Rhys cleared his throat quietly, uncomfortable. He couldn’t just _ask_ not to help her, could he? And he wanted to help her. So why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking?

Several moments passed but she could not manage to shrug herself out of the armor she slept in since she had left Denerim.

Rhys saw that Sarah was struggling and he reached to help push the armor off her shoulders, trying to ensure his fingers didn’t brush against her skin too much, but unsure of whether or not he was succeeding. He thought he probably wasn’t. Once the armor was pushed down far enough he let go hoping that Tabris would take over and finish undressing herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly as she removed the top entirely, struggling not to hold her arms against her chest to cover herself as she sat there numbly. 

“I - it’s - you shouldn’t be sorry….” Rhys said in a whisper. He had squeezed his eyes shut and was trying to remember how to breathe properly.

Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes and began to bandage her. He worked quickly, managing not to touch her in any place he thought inappropriate or awkward, focusing his eyes strictly on the bandages and the wounds that ran up and down her back. He hadn’t wanted to touch or look at her improperly but in the end noticed she seemed to be holding back quiet sounds of pain.

“Are - are you ok?” he asked, his hands still shaking.

“Fine,” she said roughly. “It’s just - a bit - tight - I can’t breathe.”

Rhys’s cheeks turned red. He had bandaged many other Dalish elves before, even if they had been men and it hadn’t been their chests. He may not be a healer, but he knew the importance of circulation, and of course breathing was necessary. Which meant he would have to undo the bandages and start over.

“Taking your time are you?” Daveth called.

Mahariel ignored Daveth, “I’m so sorry. I - I have to start over.”

He heard the horror in his own voice.

“Rhysand, if you don’t want to do this I understand. I’ll be fine,” she said.

He began to unwrap the bandages which he had to admit were very tight. He suddenly worried at the pain he must have caused her applying them.

“No.. it’s ok - I can do this. I just….” he took a deep breath. 

He worked to force his nerves to calm. He wouldn’t cause Sarah any more pain just because he was self-conscious and couldn’t control his own feelings.

“It’s alright. I - if Cousland is willing to bandage my wounds I’m willing to have her do so if it means I don’t have to put you through this,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Rhys felt horrible. As well as causing her physical pain he was clearly causing her mental anguish as well. 

“I…” Rhys sounded strangled.

“I’ll do it,” Cousland said.

Rachel walked over and took the bandage from Rhys’s hands, professionally wrapping Tabris up and helping her put her armor on before stepping away again. Rhys had never felt so relieved in his life. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. He was usually so well spoken and good with people but something about this entire situation and Tabris was just turning him into a mess.

Cousland had walked away pulling Daveth with her as soon as she had finished helping Sarah, leaving the two elves alone. Sarah stood, and turned toward him slightly though not enough to fully face him as she rubbed her forearm. He noticed her cheeks were slightly pink, her eyes downcast.

“I - um - I’m going to go find another shirt,” she said, heading back toward the tavern without another word.

Rhys watched her go his face finally starting to fade back to its normal tan. He didn’t know how he would be able to face Tabris again after this. He felt like such an idiot and was worried that he had ruined their friendship. He had never felt so awkward in all of his twenty years of life. 


End file.
